


Hetalia: 50☆Stars (Vol. 1)

by Jade_of_Spades



Series: Hetalia: 50☆Stars [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: American History, Attempt at Humor, Funny, Hetalia OCs, Historical Hetalia, Humor, Random & Short, Randomness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2019-11-15 07:07:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 51
Words: 81,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18068879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jade_of_Spades/pseuds/Jade_of_Spades
Summary: California becomes the Mayor of Hell. Texas solves problems with guns. New York has a rat infestation. And Florida does Florida... All that aside, it's just a normal day for the States of America.Hetalia: 50☆Stars (Vol. 1) is a collection of 'episodes' featuring Hetalia OCs based on the 50 States of America and Washington D.C. More details about the volume are explained in the author's note at the beginning of the first chapter.





	1. Shutting Down Fun Times

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, Readers ~
> 
> First off, this is a really long author's note I would've made its own 'chapter', however, AO3 insisted it be called 'Chapter One'. As a result, I'm forced to put this long author's note regarding the story's details here instead. Feel free to skip it for those who wish to dive head first into the story.
> 
> This fanfiction was originally published on Wattpad. Anyone can check that story out on Wattpad under the username: LunarJade, or just search the fanfiction of that same name as well. Of course, this story I have here is not on Wattpad. While I'm familiar with writing fanfiction, this is my first time writing and posting onto AO3. For now, I'll treat my AO3 account as a backup for my fanfiction. At the same time, I'll try to get the gist of AO3. Either way, I hope anyone reading this author's note is curious to what this fanfiction is about.
> 
> This fanfiction is focused on Hetalia OCs personifying the States of America and Washington D.C. For readers who aren't familiar with my Hetalia OCs, I already wrote a couple of books on them that are on my Wattpad account. "Hetalia: Guide to the Fifty States" contains each OCs' character profile. This book won't contain introductions on each OC/state, so I recommend checking that guide out for those unfamiliar with my OCs. Even then, I think anyone can get the gist of these characters in this book alone without a needed guide.
> 
> Anyway, this story is a part of a series containing short, random chapters involving my 50 States OCs. Below are some things to expect when reading this story:
> 
> \- The format of this volume is based on the Hetalia anime. Parts were originally called "episodes", however, AO3 insisted I call them chapters instead. Oh well.  
> \- Such chapters may have multiple scenes. Some scenes may follow a continuous story/plot. Other scenes may be separate one-offs within an episode.  
> \- Such chapters will generally be in 3rd person.  
> \- Such chapters are comedic and light-hearted in general.  
> \- Such chapters may make references to U.S. history and culture, all of which will be mentioned in the footnotes of every chapter.  
> \- Such episodes may be based on current events while this story is updating; some of which may involve controversial and/or political topics. I tend to write about such topics in a bias matter, so please don't assume I support such views.  
> \- Canon characters such as APH England will occasionally make an appearance.  
> \- Various other OCs of mine will also make guest appearances throughout the story. Examples of OC guest characters include the Canadian Provinces, the Mexican States, and even the U.S. Territories.  
> \- Canon characters and OCs are referred to by the land they represent (no human names) to prevent any confusion that may pop up.  
> \- My 50 States OCs will have multiple appearances, however, some may have more "screen time" than others whether intentional or not.  
> \- Updates are random. There'll be times when I update more than usual or less than usual. Without a doubt, I'll be sure to update the story once per month to keep it relevant until I post a notice stating otherwise for whatever reason.
> 
> To readers on AO3 who aren't familiar with me and my fanfiction:
> 
> \- The reason for the teen rating is mainly for cursing and minor violence. I won't censor curse words, mainly because I don't see the point on censoring them.  
> \- Unlike Wattpad, I won't take requests from the comments on this website out of concern for losing track of requests from both websites. If you wish to make a request for possible episode, feel free to leave a comment on my Wattpad account. Of course, I'll give the person credit unless the person wishes to remain anonymous.
> 
> Of course, this fanfiction isn't perfect. There may be spelling and grammar mistakes, but the material should be readable for the most part. Also, the style throughout this series is intended to mimic Hetalia, however, I'm not an expert on humor, so I apologize to anyone who doesn't find anything within this book amusing. Lastly, there may be mistakes regarding the historical and cultural references I make whether it be a misinterpretation on my part, or something I forgot to mention. If that happens, I'll go so far as to fix the plot if necessary. Despite such mistakes, as long as this book is entertaining to some, I fulfill this story's purpose.
> 
> Again, thank you to those for giving this fanfiction a try and hopefully enjoy this series. As a fellow Hetalian, I say: PASTA~
> 
> ~ Jade

~

"Dude! I think the States Annual Meeting can convene! Solving all of today's problems by talking excessively!" Texas states out loud for everyone in the building to hear.

Wisconsin gives her a strange look. "Uh-"

Tex laughs. "No matter how hard it seems, we can fix anything with enough meetings and barbecue!"

Virginia calmly sips her cup of tea.

Tex huffs her chest proudly. "Feel free to speak honestly while protecting your chances for reelection!"

Minnesota fixes her bow while Delaware looks uncomfortably to the side, questioning whether or not he made the mistake on letting Tex lead this meeting.

"Alright! Now that's settled, I'll go first! About the whole using fracking to get more oil thing, I think we'll be okay if we engineer a super drill and have it dig to the center of the Earth to find dinosaur blood. Thus, I give you Project Mega Ultra Texas-sized Armadrillo!" She points to a poorly drawn drill shaped like an armadillo on the powerpoint screen.

_*Cricket chirps*_

Oklahoma shyly raises his hand. "I agree with Tex because..." he mutters in an inaudible voice only a mouse can hear.

"Speak up, or shut up! Everyone wants to speak, too!" Idaho complains in an impatient manner.

"There's no way we can build a drill that'll reach the center of the Earth," New York scoffs. "Frankly, I call bullshit and bologna..." He continues to rant.

California hoots in a smug mood. "If York and Tex don't agree, how can I be superior by dissing them both?"

"El Niño!" York points at her.

Tex slides over to Cali. "You hippies love to hate on Texas! Why not go back to making good Hollywood movies like you used to!" She smiles while poking her head with a pen.

"Hahaha! That's real funny coming from a greedy, oil baron with a stupid hat!"

"You two are the absolute worse," York remark.

"You're no better than us, Mr. Wolf of Wall Street," she snickers.

While the three states fight over their big egos, the rest of the states can't help, but observe from a safe distance.

Hawaii sighs. "Big states are so immature. I doubt they'll ever grow up! Maybe I can try appealing to the only organ of theirs that seems to work." She goes up to the three. "Would you guys like to sample some Spam tasty treats?" She held out a plate of Spam musubi.

"We'll get hungry again!" York and Cali scold her.

Florida makes a wink at Alaska. "Hey! Why don't you say something, Alaska? They'll stop fighting if you go over and step in!"

"What? Why me? No thanks." Alaska shyly shakes her head. "I rather be lonely and single forever than get involved with them. Well, maybe except Texas..." She darts her eyes on the rowdy Texan.

Florida shrugs. "How about you, Michigan? Got anything ya want to say?"

"I'm good! Besides, I have other matters I want to discuss." She eyes Ohio with a wrench in hand.

Ohio pales, covering his mouth as though he's going to vomit.

"Please don't kill my beaver! I swear she didn't mean to break your wooden sculpture!" Oregon cries, holding and protecting her friend from the furious Alabamian.

New Jersey laughs. "You're so tough. Next, you'll try to pick a fight with Massachusetts!"

York glares at him. "Do you have a little detachable head?"

"Stop there!" Vermont halts them both. "If you get any closer to New York, I'll get my maple syrup and go all Bennington on you!"

The two gave him weird looks. "What does that even mean?"

Nevada snores...

"It's like a UFC in here!" Kentucky laughs, but stops laughing all of a sudden. "Hey, that sounds like KFC! Hungry, anyone?"

The entire room is in complete disarray.

"Please anyone! Calm down," Hawaii pleads, but her words fall on deaf ears.

"Eh! Ah! Stop! Get your hands off me!"

In midst of their arguments, no one seem to notice a certain individual arriving at the meeting. The vein in her forehead twitch seeing the state of the room in utter chaos.

With a powerful tap of her heel, she shouts, "EVERYONE SHUT UP!!!"

Everyone turn their heads to the door.

"D.C.!" York and Cali exclaim with their hands around each other's throats.

The U.S. capital storms to the front of the room, taking her spot at the front of the table. She slams down a pile of papers on the table. "The one time I left to get some coffee, I come back to this." She stares hauntingly into everyone's souls. She clears her throat before addressing the room. "This isn't the time to argue and idle around. We've called this conference to solve America's problems; not to fight over first world problems. Because we wasted enough time on pointless discussions, I expect everyone to follow my rules from here on out. Eight minutes each for speeches, no chit-chatting or side deals, and absolutely no going over the time limit. Now if you want to go, make sure you're prepared and raise your hand. Understood?"

Everyone nod silently, mostly out of fear.

She lets out a tired breath. "Now then, let's begin." She looks across the room. "With my permission, I allow Colorado to speak."

Everyone's heads turn to the 38th state, awaiting what he has to say.

Colorado smiles with a flush face. "... WEEEEEEEED!"

☆☆☆☆☆

Oh, my sweaty balls! It's July, and everyone is fucking dying from a heat stroke! The cure? Why let's head on over to the beach!

New York sighs as he walks down the sidewalk, wearing blue swim trunks, an open, white shirt, and a visor. "It was here or California. And honestly, I prefer California," he grumbles.

He's about to go through the entrance gate to the beach, but a large man in uniform blocks his way. "Sorry, sir. The beach is closed." He crosses his arms.

York's navy blue eyes widen in surprise. "Closed? But this is July."

"We're in midst of a state government shutdown. No one's allowed on the beach until the shutdown is over."

York looks pass the guard to see someone tanning on the beach. Squinting his eyes, he notices the asshole to be New Jersey. "Closed my ass! What's he doing there?" He angrily gestures to his rival down at the beach.

"He's with the governor."

"You mean the racist orangutan's delivery boy. First off, why are they exceptions?" York looks around the guard. "Hey, douchebag! Get your tan butt up here!"

New Jersey raises his head from the towel. He lifts up his sunglasses to see York standing faraway at the entrance of the gate. "Yo!" He waves with a smirk on his face.

"Don't 'yo' me! Let me in!"

"What? I can't hear you!"

"Let me in!"

"I can't hear you!"

"Let me in, damn it!"

"Ooh! I would love to, but I'm busy getting some sun," he chuckles.

York grits his teeth. "Forget this!" He walks away. "This is the last time I'm ever stepping foot in this crowded, fuck nest," he grumbles.

Seeing York disappear, Jersey smiles to himself. "Ah~ Finally, I can have the beach all to myself without an infestation of Yorkies ruining my fun. Although, it's a shame I have to share the beach with my boss." He sighs as he lowers his head back down on the towel. "Now, back to tanning in peace..."

~ Hetalia! ~

Among his goals in life, Ohio wanted to make one of his cities as popular as New York City and Los Angeles. Thus, he came up with a plan: to create a tourism video that'll attract people to come to Cleveland. Unfortunately, he was given two days to shoot the commercial. With much haste, this was the product of his hard work:

The video ends.

Ohio looks to Michigan with an optimistic smile on his face. "... So, what do you think?"

Michigan gives him a weird look. "Didn't Moses Cleaveland leave Cleveland and never came back?"

He sweats awkwardly. "... At least we're not Detroit!"

"Hey!"

☆☆☆☆☆

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ The introduction scene was a reference to the first episode of the Hetalia anime (English dub version).
> 
> \- Of course, I had to make adjustments due to the dialogue from the anime not making sense for some characters. Hopefully everyone doesn't mind.
> 
> \+ In July 2017, with the 4th of July around the corner, New Jersey's state government was forced to shut down amid a budget standoff, thus all state-run facilities like public beaches were closed until the dispute was resolved.
> 
> \- Governor Chris Christie of New Jersey, already unpopular with New Jersey residents, was ridiculed for spending time with his family at an empty beach while many hopeful beach-goers were turned away. His response to reporters who questioned his retreat: "That's just the way it goes," Mr. Christie said. "Run for governor, and you can have a residence."
> 
> \+ The last scene was a reference to a video on YouTube featuring a mock tourism commercial on Cleveland, Ohio (the first among the two related videos).
> 
> \- Fun Fact: Moses Cleaveland, the founder of "Cleaveland", Ohio, really did leave Cleveland after its founding and never came back. He died in Connecticut and was buried there.


	2. Second Attempt at Being a Dick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: To the people on AO3 who are wondering what's up with the picture below, I promise it's related to the episode. Anyway, continue reading.

~

_Previously on 50☆Stars: Ohio's first tourism commercial didn't go so well. Thus, he was forced to go back to the drawing board. And now back to our daily scheduled program._

~

"... Well, what do you think?" Ohio turns his attention to Michigan.

"... I don't know whether to love it or hate it," she mutters. "First off, Detroit isn't that bad."

"Detroit is shit."

"So is Cleveland."

"..."

"..."

"Can we both agree both cities are currently pieces of shit?"

"... No."

"... We're not Detroit!"

"Fuck you!"

☆☆☆☆☆

It was 1636. Rhode Island was born a dick.

"Massachusetts!"

Massachusetts turns around to see a small child with black, spiky hair standing on a hill. The child gives him the middle finger.

"Fuck the Pilgrims! Your religion sucks! And witches aren't real!" the child yells as he runs away.

From that point onward, Rhode Island was banned from stepping foot in Massachusetts's house ever again.

~ Hetalia! ~

It was 1776. Rhode Island continued to be a dick.

"Hey, Eyebrows!"

England opens the front door to see a Rhode Island standing in front of him. The child gives him the middle finger.

"Fuck you! I'm free now! And those eyebrows make you ugly!" the child yells as he runs away.

"Why you, bloody git! Come back here!"

From that point onward, Rhode Island was free to do whatever he pleased.

~ Hetalia! ~

It was 1787. Rhode Island continued to be a dick.

"Hey, Pennsylvania!"

Pennsylvania turns around to see Rhode Island standing at the doorway. She smiles. "I'm glad you could-"

"Fuck you! Fuck this convention! I'm going home!" He walks away with both middle fingers in the air.

"What's his problem?" She turns to Delaware for an answer.

"Just Rhode Island being a dick to everyone," he grumbles

"Typical..."

From that point onward, Rhode Island remained a dick among the Original Thirteen. He eventually signed the Constitution and admitted to becoming a state. Nevertheless, he was still a dick.

~ Hetalia! ~

It was 1920. Rhode Island continued to be a dick.

"Fuck Prohibition! What do you expect to drink during football Sundays? Water? Hahahahaha!" he scoffs.

Virginia frowns. "Please, Rhodie. Less alcohol means a better society with less crime, less violence, and less corruption."

"Say that again ten years later," he snickers. "By the way, I won't ratify that stupid amendment. Connecticut, are you with me on this?"

"... I'll think about it."

"Not you, too."

~ Hetalia! ~

It was 2001. Rhode Island embraced being a dick. Literally.

"Okay, team!" the basketball coach rallies the players together during their last timeout. "One minute left on the clock until game! We're down by 8 points. It's going to be close, but as long as we make our shots, we'll win! Alright? Let's do this!"

"Yeah! Go Balls!" The players cheer and clap as they run back to the court.

The crowd goes wild as many fans of the Rhode Island School of Design cheer for their team. Waddling along the side is their unofficial mascot: a seven foot, phallic symbol whose scrotum jiggles with every step it mades. And guess who's in the costume?

"When the heat is on, the Balls stick together! Go Balls!" Rhode Island hollers.

"What the fuck is Rhode Island?" Connecticut questions as he watches the tiny state make a fool out of himself.

"Suck my balls!" Rhode Island taunts the other team who uncomfortably looked away from the talking, walking, giant penis.

Thus, that concludes the history of Rhode Island being a dick!

☆☆☆☆☆

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ Continuing from the first episode is the second video related to Cleveland's mock tourism commercial (for some reason I couldn't link the original video onto the episode).
> 
> \+ Honestly, I always saw Rhode Island as a smartass who never ceased to amaze me. Other Hetalia OC creators might have different views of the tiny state. Overall, I quite like Rhode Island for being a bit of a rebel.
> 
> \- 1636: Roger Williams, the founder of Rhode island, was forced out of the Massachusetts Colony.
> 
> \- 1776: Rhode Island was the first to declare its independence from Great Britain two months before the Declaration of Independence was signed.
> 
> \- 1787: Rhode Island was the only state among the Original Thirteen who refused to attend the Constitutional Convention due to disagreeing with a bigger government.
> 
> \- 1920: Rhode Island (and Connecticut to an extent) was the only state not to ratify the 18th amendment (Prohibition). People from the state hated the amendment, but "complied" to an extent.
> 
> \- 2001: The Rhode Island School of Design unofficially adopted Scrotie, a seven foot penis, as their mascot (the picture above shows the original Scrotie on the left and the new, current Scrotie on the right). Before Scrotie, their sports teams' names and slogans were named after scrotums, the hockey team known as the Nads ("Go Nads!" is their slogan), and their basketball team known simply as the Balls. Fun fact: this school's the alma mater of "Family Guy" creator Seth MacFarlane.


	3. Meanwhile in Florida...

~

"Next!" the judge orders. She shuffles her papers, getting her ready to judge the next person. She looks down at the name on the paper and her eyes widen in disbelief. She turns her attention away from the paper, peering over the podium to see a familiar woman in handcuffs. "You again? What did you do this time?" She scowls.

Florida waves both her hands. "¡Hola!" She smiles.

☆☆☆☆☆

The judge pinches the bridge of her nose, shaking her head in puzzlement and disappointment. She questions humanity's common sense, wondering how can one person be so stupid as to show up at her court again and again. Is this "human" incapable of understanding the laws of her own home? How is she not broke from the constant fines? How is she not tired of community service, jail time, or parole? She lets out another agonizing breath before looking down at the handcuffed woman.

"According to this report, you're being charged for the illegal possession of drugs, the illegal possession of an exotic animal, and the illegal possession of a prohibited firearm in addition to disturbing the peace, hijacking a motor vehicle, and criminal assault... What on God's green Earth do you have to say for yourself?"

Florida chuckles. "Well, funny story..."

The judge glares. "Is any of this funny to you?"

She shakes her head. "N-No, ma'am! I get why I'm arrested and all, but all those charges have a good explanation. I'm willing to tell you everything if it means proving my innocence."

"After showing up in my court seven times, I doubt you are as innocent as before."

"Trust me, Your Honor! You wanna hear this!"

The judge sighs. "... What's your story?"

~ Hetalia! ~

"Well, let's see... It all began on a Wednesday morning. Or, was it in the afternoon? Morning? Afternoon? ... I'm going to say noon. Y-Yeah! Noon!"

"Get to the story," the judge groans.

"Right!" Florida nods her head. "So, I was at the beach getting myself a tan. I didn't want to get all pasty white, so I was there for quite a while. After getting my tan, I was walking back to my car in the nearby parking lot when, out of nowhere, a spider monkey falls out of the sky. I was like, "Whoooaaa! Did a monkey just fall out of the sky?" By the way, is the monkey doing alright?"

"The monkey is safe and sound," says the judge in a monotone voice. "Get to the point of the story before I change my mind."

"Yes, Your Honor! As I was saying, this spider monkey falls out of the sky and lands in my convertible. It landed in a loud thunk, and I thought it was dead. I picked it up with my beach towel, and I was glad to see it was still alive. I was about to take the monkey to a veterinarian when, all of a sudden, I was flying."

"What?"

"Uh-huh! I was fly- Actually, I was floating. Y-Yeah! I was definitely floating! Like, I swear I wasn't trippin' balls!"

"That's impossible."

"But it's true! And you know why?"

She sighs. "Why?"

"Because aliens!"

"... Miss, that's the third time you told me-"

"I know! I know! But this is for real! Aliens! Aliens kidnapped me and the monkey into their massive, invisible spaceship! Believe me! It's true! I swear to the Bible, Your Honor! You gotta believe me!"

Again, the judge questions her life's decisions. "... Continue," she says with hesitance.

~ Hetalia! ~

"So, I was floating into the alien's spaceship through their yellow pillar of light with the half-dead monkey in my arms. When I got up there, I was approached by two aliens. This is going to sound weird, but the aliens I met looked super creepy. Like, they wore these fake, blonde wigs on their heads as symbols of power and their eyes were all super buggy like a fly or something. Their hands were incredibly tiny, however, they had these long, purple tentacles coming out of their backside they used to do all the grabbing and touching and hand stuff. I seriously thought they were going to use those tentacles to probe my-"

"I get it! I get it!" the judge interrupts with a flushed face.

"Sorry! I got a little carried away with the details," Florida giggles. "So, I was scared shitless seeing those aliens in front of me. I was ready to fight them, but, as it turned out, the monkey that fell out of the sky was actually their pet named Nutters. The aliens wanted to thank me for rescuing Nutters which made me really happy. Like, thank the Flying Spaghetti Monster they weren't after my pussy-"

"Please refrain from profanity and crude language."

"Sorry! As I was saying, the aliens wanted to thank me for saving Nutters. I was given this giant purse full of weed. And you're probably wondering, why weed? I also asked the same thing. Apparently, these aliens were feeding on weed like a kale salad which is why their buggy eyes were tripping red!"

"Uh-huh."

Florida nods. "I thought those aliens were freakin' cool. Sure, they looked weird and a bit menacing, but they were at least more friendly than the ones on  _Independence Day_! However, I was proven wrong! Nutters the Monkey, as it turned out, can speak to humans!"

"Really?"

"Yeah! I know, right? Mind blown!" Florida's hands gesture an explosion in her head. "Nutters could not only talk, but he was also super smart! The monkey told me the aliens I met were actually satanic evil! It turns out these aliens were kicked out of their home planet by their own kind who didn't like them worshiping and resurrecting their evil god. Because they couldn't go back to their planet anymore, they were forced to find a new home. And guess where? Earth! They wanted to conquer the Earth as their home, so they could worship their evil god, so that they could take over the universe under his leadership!"

"Oh my god..." The judge looks so done with her shit.

"I know, right? I was like, "Shit, dawg! I gotta save this monkey and warn the others!" I was able to distract the aliens by kicking their wieners which by the way were super tiny. Like, they looked like... You know what an echidna is, right? Imagine their-"

"Don't! Just continue the story! Jesus Christ!" the judge groans with her hands covering her eyes.

"So, I totally kicked the aliens' short wieners and saved the monkey! I also managed to stole one of their grenade launchers, and-"

"Grenade launcher?"

"Uh-huh! The alien's ship had a weapon storage room, and I managed to grab one on my way out of there! It was super heavy, but damn was it a motherfuckin' powerful! I one-shotted one of the bitches, and boy was it freakin' disgusting! Green and red guts were everywhere! Like, imagine a grape monster eating five tons of frosted Christmas cookies before throwing it all up in a cramp hallway!"

The judge is at a loss for words.

"I know! Fucking disgusting- Oh! Pardon my language, Your Honor! I got a little carried away there," she chuckles. "So, the aliens were like, "Hell no, slimy, dumb human!" And I was like, "Screw you, motherfuckers! I hope y'all get AIDS from your microscopic wieners!" I then shot at another alien before leaping out of their spaceship, going through their yellow space beam back down to Earth."

The judge is still at a loss for words.

~ Hetalia! ~

After a much needed break, Florida continues her story where it left off.

"So, where was I again?"

"You were falling out of a spaceship," the judge mumbles, looking more tired than usual.

"Oh! Thanks, Your Honor!"

"No problem..."

"So, I safely came back to Earth. I was back at the parking lot where I was originally abducted. I was trying to absorb everything that just happened. At first, I didn't know what to do, but then the Nutters reminded me of the aliens' plans to destroy mankind and rule the planet. I then decided I need to warn everyone about the aliens. Just as I was about to get into my car, it turned out the aliens sabotaged by convertible."

"Sabotaged?"

"Yeah!" She pouts. "They fucking slashed the tires and broke my windshield! Like, what the fuck? I wanted to sue them, but the entire world was at stake! I thought I was going to have to walk, or call for help. But. as it turned out, Nutters could fix my car with magic. So-"

"Wait a minute." The judge stops her for a moment. "So... This monkey named "Nutters" can talk, is super intelligent, and it knows... magic."

"Yep!"

The judge shakes her head. "I'm not surprised."

"So, Nutters fixed up my car. By fixing it, I mean the monkey transformed my car into a brand new car which was, like, amazeballs! Anyway, I got into the car with the monkey and the purse full of weed and drove my ass out of there."

She sighs. "Please tell me that's the end of the story."

Florida shakes her head. "Nope! The story's only halfway finished!"

"Oh God... What's next?"

She grins. "Well, I'm glad you asked! So, I was driving, right? I knew I needed to warn everyone about the satanic worshiping aliens. So, the first place I went to was the nearby park."

The judge makes a funny face. "Why the park? Wouldn't it be easier to call the police? Or, anything else?"

Florida shakes her head. "The police wouldn't believe me. They would've thought I was prank-calling, or I was some crazy chica."

"I mean-"

"Anyway, I went to the park to warn the people," she continues her story. "I talked to the children since children were more prone to believing me than the adults. Well, it was working, but then Nutters had to ruin everything. One of the naughty children pulled Nutter's tail, and he was extremely pissed off! The monkey kept saying things like, "You short, floppy humans are a huge mistake! You fucking shitheads are so stupid! If I were your fat mama, I would put a cork in my va-jay-jay..." and shit like that. I was like, "Stupid, monkey! Stop being an asshole!" Then, the kids ended up crying to their mamas. I didn't want to deal with some angry bitches, so I left the area."

"..."

"I know! Kids, right?"

"Sure..."

~ Hetalia... ~

"Anyway, I was back driving in my car. I knew if I told anyone else about the aliens they wouldn't believe me. Thus, I was left with no choice, but to take matters into my own hands."

"Oh no," the judge groans.

"Oh yes!" Florida exclaims. "First, I went to Goodwill and donated the grenade launcher."

The judge's eyes widen. "Why would you do that?!"

"Why, I knew the poor folk wouldn't have any way to defend themselves. I mean, they didn't even have guns, so a grenade launcher should do just fine to protect them."

The judge angrily shakes her head. "First off, that grenade launcher was loaded. Second, you should be fortunate no one got hurt handling that weapon. If that weapon got in the wrong hands, it'll all be on you."

"But luckily, no one got hurt." She smiles.

The judge narrows her eyes. "Are we close to the end yet?"

"Almost!"

She grumbles, "Let's get this over with."

"After donating to Goodwill like the good citizen I was, I went to Home Depot."

"Is there a reason why you went to Home Depot?"

"Yes, actually! You see, when the humans learn of the alien's invasion, the world is going to be in absolute chaos! I needed to prepare my home during this Human vs. Satanic Evil Aliens war, or else I was going to be screwed. When I went to Home Depot to get some supplies, I left Nutters in the car because you know Home Depot. No pets allowed," she giggles.

"I gotcha."

"So, I got some stuff. By some, I mean a shit ton! One of the employees offered to help me take my things to my car which was really nice of them. I didn't even question it. Just as they were packing the things into my car, Nutters began to attack them out of nowhere! I was like, "What the fuck, monkey?!" But then Nutters told me, "You could've died, you dumb dick!" As it turned out, the employee was actually one of the aliens in disguise! I was like, "Daaamn! I could've died! The next thing I knew, police were all over the scene, separating me and the monkey, thus here I am." She smiles.

"... Is that the end of your story?"

She nods. "Yep!"

The judge looks down at her papers. "What about the cocaine?"

"The cocaine? Oh, yeah! It was the wind!"

The judge peers down her glasses. "The wind?"

She quickly nods. "Yep! Must of flew in the wind, fell through my car window, and sneaked its way into my purse."

The judge stares down at her in scathing silence.

"Yep. It was really windy that day. Yep..." She rubs her nose.

By the end of the trial, Florida was sentenced to three months of community service in addition to a $25,000 fine.

☆☆☆☆☆

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ "Meanwhile, in Florida" is a meme that features Florida news titles, all sounding fake and unbelievable, yet are truly weird and crazy. There are also similar memes for other states, however, Florida is the most notorious among them. The stuff Florida does in this episode are references to Florida news titles that happened so far in 2018. This includes:
> 
> \- A Candidate For The House Of Representatives Believes Aliens Abducted Her
> 
> \- A Man Had His Monkey Taken Away After He Was Arrested For Driving A Stolen Car
> 
> \- Police Arrested A Florida Man For Climbing On Top Of A Playground Structure And Lecturing Kids On Where Babies Come From
> 
> \- Someone Donated A Loaded Grenade Launcher To Goodwill
> 
> \- A Spider Monkey Attacked A Home Depot Employee When It Escaped From Its Owners Car
> 
> \- A Woman Blamed A Windy Day For The Cocaine Found In Her Purse (funnily enough, she fully admitted the marijuana in her bag was hers which made this title even more ridiculous)


	4. Hurricanes are Windy Assholes

~

In 2018, a group of filmmakers decided to make a documentary regarding the recent surge of hurricanes, especially those that made landfall along the coasts of the United States. They selected a few Americans who lived in these hurricane-impacted areas to interview regarding their memories of hurricanes impacting their lives. Unfortunately, much of the footage was cut from the final product due to unspecified reasons.

Here was the deleted footage of the interviews they decided to cut:

"What was the worst hurricane you've experienced up until 2018?" asked the interviewer.

"The Great Galveston Hurricane of 1900," Texas was the first to answer.

"Uh, do you want to expand on that?"

Her eyes darkened. "12,000 people died. Is that good enough?"

The interviewer took a hard gulp. "Okay... Moving on."

Louisiana grumbled. "Hurricane Katrina was a bitch. Twelve years later, and I'm still not over it."

"Uh... How about you?" the interviewer turned to the Floridan.

"Let's see..." Florida snapped her fingers, trying to recall all the hurricanes she witnessed over the years. "The deadliest would obviously be Labor Day in 1935. But the costliest would either be Andrew in 1992 or Irma from last year. But if I had to choose, I'd say Irma."

"Why would you say that?"

"She fucked up my tourism. Plus, I nearly drowned trying to shoot her."

The interviewer made a weird face. "Why were you shooting at a hurricane?"

She shrugged. "I thought it would make a good Instagram post. Although, my friends didn't find it funny for some reason."

"We were confident your crazy ass would survive another hurricane," said Louisiana off-screen. "Plus, we were more concerned with Tex getting over Harvey than you."

"The rain wouldn't stop. 7.8 out of 10. Too much water..."

"That's a shocker," said Florida. "Was that why no one liked my Two-Face post?"

Louise scoffed, "You made a meme over a catastrophic disaster."

"Idaho found it funny."

"The cynical potato doesn't count!"

"Cut!" the interviewer groaned.

☆☆☆☆☆

On September 10, 2018, the Governor of South Carolina declared the evacuation of the entire coast in caution of Hurricane Florence's arrival on Wednesday night or Thursday morning. Both North Carolina and Virginia declared state emergencies. Neighboring states were kept aware of the storm's movements through social media and news outlets. Some went online to research the things they needed to prepare during a hurricane. One such video they found was created by the Carolina Sisters.

Here's that video:

"Hey, y'all!" South Carolina waves. "It's hurricane season, and some windy asshole named Florence wants to mess with me. But that's okay! I'm prepared!" She beams with confidence.

"No, you're not." North Carolina scrunches her face. "You didn't even board your house yet."

"Whatever. I'll do that later." She brushes her off. "Now then, let's get started."

~ Hetalia! ~

"Listen up, folks! It's time to stock up on supplies!" says South Carolina to the camera.

North Carolina parks her car in a Target parking lot. She turns to look directly at the camera. "I recommend going to the store as soon as possible. Don't wait before the day of the storm because you're not the only one preparing for the hurricane."

"That's right!" South Carolina exclaims. "Even though my sister and I disagree all the time, I have to agree with her on this one." The two proceed to get out of the car. "Let's head inside and see what's left of the store."

The camera cuts to the store's shelves.

"As you can see, many shelves are empty. Gallons of water: gone. My sister and I had to purchase four cases of water bottles." South Carolina pans the camera back to her. "We got these things in the early afternoon. If we came later, there would probably be no water left for us. So, get your supplies as soon as possible!"

The camera cuts to North Carolina buying canned vegetables. "I recommend buying foods that require little to no electricity to prepare. Plus, these foods can be kept at room temperature while still being safe to eat. Canned meat, fruits, and vegetables are the way to go in addition to high-energy foods like protein bars and trail-mixes." She pushes the shopping cart to the soda isle. "This hurricane is going to say for a while. It can get tiring eating such foods. In that case, it's nice to treat yourself to some comfort food and drinks." She picks up a case of Pepsi.

The camera whirls back to South Carolina at the pharmacy isle. "Shit- I-I mean darn! All the first-aid kits are gone!"

North Carolina cuts into the camera. "My sister and I aren't injured, nor do we take prescribed medicine. Even so, anything could go wrong during a hurricane. As such, get the medicine and first-aid kits you need before supplies run out."

"Right!" South Carolina comes back on camera as she strolls through the store. "Besides food, water, and medicine, other supplies that'll come in handy include batteries, flashlights, radios, toilet paper, maps of the area, and other such useful items." She pans down to the shopping cart, showcasing the things they got.

North Carolina pops back into the frame. "This can also include books and board games." She shows a Monopoly board game and a book titled,  _The Fault in Our Stars_. "No-"

"No electricity means no Wi-Fi!" South Carolina interjects.

"Hey! You stole my line!"

She brushes her sister off. "I'm about to go to the check-out line. After this, we still have more places to go. If you're like me, about to head out the state, board up your house, so the hurricane's high winds don't damage your windows. You can either scavenge for wooden planks, or you can head to stores like Home Depot where I'm going for my supplies to protect my home."

"Hey! It's my turn to speak!" North Carolina pushes her away, so she can get on camera.

She shoves her away. "You already spoke most of your lines at the food isle!"

"I still have a lot to say." She quickly turns to the camera. "This includes going to the ATM and getting cash because places after the hurricane's landfall may not be able to accept credit card."

"Hey! That was my line!"

"Also, fill up on gas for all your vehicles-"

"Stop stealing my lines!"

"I won't if you stop hogging the camera!"

The sisters continue to squabble as onlookers stare while passing by.

~ Hetalia! ~

The camera cuts to South Carolina's house by the beach. "Okay! I just boarded up my house and stored my valuables in containers in the attic. By that, I mean my sister did all the work. To be fair, I was backing up my files on a flashdrive and packing my belongings, including my personal documents, into my sister's car. Also, if you're wondering where my sister is, she's currently using my bathroom. I'm filming without her because, knowing her jealous tendencies, she's going to steal all my lines."

She zooms in on the patio. "Before I forget, I want to remind everyone to clear your balconies and patios of any furniture and objects that may go flying once the hurricane's winds pick up. This includes the driveway, so make sure to bring the garbage bin inside before Florence decides to throw junk at you and your neighbors."

She turns her camera to a red vehicle. "All of my personal belongings are secured either within my house, or I'm taking it with me to my sister's home. Speaking of my personal belongings..." She approaches the back of the vehicle. Sitting among the supplies they bought were two dog crates. She zooms in on one of the crates. "This is Jessie. She and Spartan, my other dog, are coming with me. Notice their dog collars? In case they ran away during the storm, when rescuers search for them they'll be able to tell both dogs are mine and notify me because of the phone number on their dog tags. But Jessie wouldn't run away from me. No, she won't~" She dotes on the Carolina dog with smooches.

"My dogs would," says North Carolina standing behind her.

South Carolina turns her head and frowns. "I hope they do."

Her sister scowls. "Why am I even helping you? Couldn't you stay with Georgia? Or, anybody else for that matter?"

She huffs. "I would've went to Georgia, but she and I are currently not speaking until she takes back what she said about me on Twitter."

"But you really are a spoiled stepchild."

"I am not!"

~ Hetalia! ~

The camera comes back on, revealing North Carolina's face. "Okay," she whispers. "My sister is currently unpacking her belongings in a guest room. She already told y'all about boarded houses, patios, and pets and junk. As payback, I'm going to finish the rest of this video."

She smiles as she adjusts the camera. "Tip #1: Fill your tub with clean water. It's especially useful whenever you need to flush your toilet or in need of clean drinking water."

"Tip #2: Crank your freezer and fridge to its coldest setting. That way, when the power goes out, the food in your fridge will preserve much longer. Limit the amount of times you open your fridge in order to keep the fridge cool."

"Tip #3: Charge all electronics, especially your phone. You won't be able to charge them again when the power goes out. Especially with your phone, keep their usage to a minimal in case you need to use it for emergencies."

"Tip #4: Call your friends and family members regarding your situation, so that they'll know where you are and your plans beforehand. I've already called all of mine, so I should be good."

"Tip #5: Make sure all your doors and windows are locked. The hurricane isn't the only thing you need to worry about. Some people will take this opportunity to loot stores and houses, so it's recommended you make sure your house is secured."

"Tip #6: Scour important places in your area such as stores, shelters, and other locations. Plan out multiple routes because many of these streets and areas can possibly be inaccessible from the floods. Always have back-up plans."

"Lastly, always stay updated on the latest news. And I don't mean celebrity gossip. I'm talking about  _actual_  news. The hurricane is going to be around for a couple of days, so you'll need to be alert on everything from the weather report to your governor's advice throughout the whole situation."

"Also-"

"Hey! Are you filming without me?" South Carolina pokes her head in front of the camera.

"I-I...u-uh..."

"Give it back!"

"Hey! I'm about to wrap up the footage!"

"What? Impossible! Did you tell them about the fridge?"

"Yep!"

"The electronics?"

"Yep!"

"Even things not to do during a hurricane?"

"Yep! I-I mean, I had yet to mention that."

She sighs. "I'll forgive you only if you let me mention those things."

Her sister pouts. "Fine..." She relents and hands her the camera.

South Carolina presents herself in front of the camera. "I expect everyone watching this video to have some common sense. But in case you forget, here's a reminder on what not to when this hurricane hits your area."

She smiles. "Rule #1: Stay inside. Don't be an idiot and get blown away by the high winds and storm surges."

"Rule #2: Don't tape your windows! Get hurricane-resistant windows instead for all I care. I don't care if that tape is waterproof. Tape can't stop high-force winds! Also, stay away from windows unless you want to get glass in your stupid face."

"Rule #3: Don't use candles during power outages. Unless you have nothing else to light your home, it may be fine to use them under careful watch. However, you may accidentally start a fire, making the situation much worse for yourself and others. Thus, it's important to have working flashlights in supply."

"Rule #4: Don't drive in flood waters. Even if it looks shallow, the water can still damage your vehicle. Plus, the torrents can overtake your vehicle, thus taking you along with it."

"Rule #5: Speaking of flooded roads, don't go walking or swimming in them. The waters are murky, and they can hide dangers like downed power lines, dangerous animals, and sharp debri."

"Rule #6: Don't leave your animals outside during the storm. It's dangerous, and they can easily get spooked and run away. Get one of those pee mats for them to use indoors. Overall, don't be a jerk to your animals."

"Rule #7: Never run a generator indoors. Carbon monoxide produced by the generator can kill you without anyone noticing it. The same gas can also come from grills, so remember to not grill indoors as well."

"Rule #8: Don't underestimate the eye of the storm. Even though things may seem calm at first, the storm may not be over. Remember to check for the latest updates on the storm before you're sure it's safe to go out."

"Rule #9: When the area you live in calls for a mandatory evacuation, don't ignore it! Rescuers will have difficulty coming to you in midst of the storm. Unless you have a death wish, listen to what they say and evacuate to safer ground."

"Rule #10: Never panic. Power outage? Don't panic. The entire floor is flooded? Don't panic. Keep calm and think of the next reasonable action to make. As long you're prepared, you'll be fine."

"There are probably more tips and things to know regarding preparation before, during, and after a hurricane makes landfall," says North Carolina as she joins her sister in front of the camera.

"In that case, please read up on more information before the hurricane hits the area," says South Carolina. "In fact, watch the news. Listen to the radio regarding any advice on the subject. Don't be an ignorant moron and think the storm is going to pass over in a day or two. Also, don't worry too much as said earlier. Even though this hurricane is said to be one of the strongest, it isn't the end of the world. As long as you plan ahead and are aware of the situation, you'll live and do just fine."

"Right." North Carolina nods her head. "My sister and I have been through many hurricanes. This isn't new, but it's still something we can't take lightly. At the same time, we're confident we'll survive this natural disaster."

"For once, I agree." She nods.

They wave toward the camera. "Stay safe our fellow Americans! And Florence," they stick their middle fingers out, "go fuck yourself!"

☆☆☆☆☆

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ The Atlantic Hurricane Season lasts from early June to late November; most hurricane activity happens around late August to September (looks keenly at Hurricane Florence).
> 
> \- The Great Galveston Hurricane of 1900 was the deadliest hurricane in not only Texas history, but also U.S. history. Despite being a category 4 hurricane, it left behind 6,000-12,000 fatalities, most of whom lived on Galveston Island. In addition to a historic high death toll, the hurricane did a massive amount of damage to Galveston, thus putting an end to Galveston's Golden Age.
> 
> \- Hurricane Katrina was a category 4-5 hurricane that impacted the Gulf Coast from central Florida to eastern Texas in 2005 (it also indirectly caused rainfall and tornadoes in states like Pennsylvania and New York in addition to parts of Canada). The State of Louisiana, specifically New Orleans, was directly hit by the deadly storm. Government response was slow in midst of the storm's impact and flooding, consequently leaving many residents without food, water, shelter. Years later, it continues to be a haunting reminder of unprepared planning during natural disasters.
> 
> \- Among the States of America, Florida has the most hurricanes, having 117 hurricanes hit its coast between 1851-2017. Some of the most well-known include the Labor Day Hurricane in 1935 and Hurricane Andrew in 1992 (both were category 5 hurricanes).
> 
> \- Hurricane Harvey and Hurricane Irma were both category 4 hurricanes that hit Texas and Florida respectively in 2017. Despite low casualties, both hurricanes were some of the costliest to fix in the aftermath. Having been through Hurricane Harvey, I was lucky my home and neighborhood weren't flooded from the constant rain. Plus, I still had electricity, so my hurricane experience wasn't as bad as other Texans.
> 
> \+ Upon the initial release of this chapter, Hurricane Florence, a category 4 (possibly 5) storm, is expected to make landfall on the 14th of September. The Carolinas and Virginia are expected to be affected by the storm. I've listed some advice on preparing for a hurricane, however, there may be more information I hadn't mentioned, so I recommend looking more into the subject. Overall, be prepared and stay safe during hurricane season.


	5. Asshat and Pizza Rat

~

On September 18, 2015, a New Yorker filmed and posted a short clip of a rat attempting to carry a slice of pizza down some stairs onto Instagram and YouTube. These were some of the responses on Instagram:

 **goldengurl31**  You see a rat, but I see a hard-working dad just trying to feed his four teenaged turtles.

 **ariaphoenix48**  You can do it Pizza Rat! I believe in you!

 **nj-d3vil**  they're evolving

 **ny-empire11**  a true New Yorker

 **princesspeachthe4th**  This is why I refuse to step foot in NYC

 **miss_missippi**  well look at the little fella go!

 **potatogod**  @princesspeachthe4th shut the fuck up bitch you do you Pizza Rat!

 **queen_eliza_x**  I ship it

 **mary-nevermore**  @queen_eliza_x  Pizza X Rat = Pizza Rat! XD

 **beautiful_oregon**  @mary-forever-nevermore I'm going to draw it! :)

 **coolguychicago**  no big deal. our rats can lift bigger slices

 **thecornfarmer**  i'm hungry

 **ny-empire11**  @coolguychicago -_-

 **mary-nevermore**  @beautiful_oregon I'll write a fanfic!

 **iluvhughjackman26**  i would've gotten pepperoni...

 **leialoha**  pineapple on pizza is a sin

 **im_not_miserable247**  it's just a rat...

 **goudabay**  @im_not_miserable247 are you being ratcist? :D

 **im_not_miserable247**  @goudabay smh

 **arkvark25**  @goudabay booooo! go home! booooo!

 **arthur_kirkland**  That rat is going to get obesity from eating that pizza.

 **ultimate-masshole**  @arthur_kirkland like your mom!

 **cock-island**  @arthur_kirkland ooooooooooooohhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!

 **americas.dick**  @arthur_kirkland SUCK IT!!!

Wyoming turns off his phone. "I'm never going on social media ever again."

☆☆☆☆☆

Among the many animal that inhabit Earth, rats are one of the most misunderstood. Sure, they have the power to scare giant-ass elephants and a single bite from one of them can possibly kill you, but cut them some slack. Most can barely grow a year old and-

"Fuck rats!" New York yells into a vent in his wall. "Rats are fucking disgusting! They poop everywhere! They eat through almost everything! And what's worst, they're fucking ninjas who can bite your face off!"

_Squeak! Squeak!_

York turns his head. He spots a large, brown rat sitting on top of his kitchen island counter. The rodent nibbles on a red, juicy apple it managed to grab from the nearby fruit bowl. The young man clenches the broom and slams the bushy end onto the rat in a loud wham.

_Squeak! Squeak!_

The rat escapes through the straw bristles, scurrying across the living room. New York's Yorkshire terrier barks at the rat as it tries to chase it down. York chases after the rat with the broom.

"Get back here!"

Just before either one of them can catch the rat, the rodents slips through a small hole in a wall. Rosy paws at the hole furiously, barking constantly at the hole in frustration.

York grits his teeth. "Rats! He got away!" He breaks the broom in half.

~ Hetalia! ~

York tries setting a trap.

"That's not him..." he notes the small, dead mouse in the trap.

York tries setting another trap.

"Nothing..." he notes the untriggered trap.

York tries poison.

"He didn't even touch it..." he notes the untouched bait.

York even tries calling pest control. Just when he thinks he has gotten rid of Asshat-

"Motherfucker!" He comes back home to see rat poop on his kitchen counter. Even worse, the poop spells out "FUCK U".

So desperate to catch that annoying prick, York brings a cat home. He's not even a cat person. He's that desperate.

"Really, Tifa?" York stares down at the dark-coated feline with the diamond-encrusted collar.

The rat is sitting on a bar stool, defenseless as it eats a piece of chocolate. The cat just stares at the rat from a nearby sofa, its hunting instincts turned off. It doesn't even bother to chase it down. It just watches the rat like it's a documentary on Animal Planet. Lazy fiend...

"... You're a cat. Do something!"

"Mrow."

York shake his head. "I got you off the streets, and this is the thanks I get."

"Mrow."

"... Why are you even a cat?"

~ Hetalia... ~

"Okay. Tifa doesn't count. It's up to you now, Chocola." York stares down at the kitten.

The chocolate brown kitten purrs as it rubs its body against York's hand. "Mew~"

York softly smiles. "Good. First, let's do some training."

He grabs a cat wand off a glass table. He dangles the fake, gray mouse in front of the kitten. The kitten stares at the dangling toy with interest. She paws at the fake mouse, giving it a test swat. She then bitest the plush on the head.

"That's it. Just like that, but harder." York dangles the fake mouse on the floor. "Now, imagine this is Asshat. He's scurrying across the floor and-"

"What are you doing?"

York looks up to see New Jersey standing behind him. He glares. "How'd you get in here?"

The Jersey Devil smirks. "I used a key."

"I didn't give you a key."

"..."

"..."

"... Rosy!"

_Arf! Arf! Arf!_

"O-Okay! Okay! I'm not welcomed here! Gah! Control your dog!"

~ Hetalia! ~

New York comes back home from work.

"Hey, Chocola. Did you catch Asshat yet?" he calls as he looks around for the kitten.

The kitten prances over to York with a rodent in its mouth. The kitten proudly puffs its chest as it places its trophy in front of its owner to inspect. York frowns seeing the mouse isn't the rat he was inspecting.

He forces a smile before petting Chocola's head. "Good girl."

The kitten purrs in delight.

_Squeak! Squeak!_

York's ears perk up. He scans the living room and nearby kitchen. Frustrated, he grabs the nearest object he could find: a newspaper. Like that'll do him any good. He scans around his house, unable to find the rat.

"Where the fuck are you?! I'm getting sick and tired seeing your shit and piss all over my apartment! It's time for you to either move out or die!"

Asshat makes a series of chirps as though it's mocking the New Yorker.

"I guess someone's looking to die! I'll beat the shit out of you and burn your remains in a dumpster! I don't care if PETA says it's wrong! Fuck off!"

Next door, a couple are moving into their apartment when they hear curses next door. Their eyes grow wide hearing a heavy series of thumps and crashes.

"Should I call 9-1-1?"

More curses follow.

"... I think we should find another apartment elsewhere."

☆☆☆☆☆

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ Pizza Rat is a famous rat from New York who went viral in 2015 for trying to carry a slice of pizza the size of its body down a set of stairs, possibly to its hideout. Most reactions to the video are positive, likening the determined rat to Master Splinter from Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.
> 
> \- Hopefully many of you, readers, were able to figure out who's who judging by their state-related Instagram accounts.
> 
> \+ New York City is known for its rat problems. According to a recent study in 2014, there are around 2 million rats living in the city. As most know, rats carry pathogens that come from bacteria in a rat's saliva, urine, and feces in addition to physical contact like a bite, or through vectors such as fleas. In fact, some people can get an allergic reaction from the presence of rodent hair! New York City's rats have gotten so dangerous to the point of sneaking up on people. There have even been reports of rats biting babies' faces off! The problem has gotten so bad, there's even a number any New Yorker can call to specifically report complaints on the city's rat problems.
> 
> \- One may think, "Just kill all the rats! Lay a bunch of traps, and they'll be gone!" If only it's that easy. Despite their short lifespans, brown rats can reproduce many offspring (up to 14 per litter) in a short amount of time. Their offspring can mature rapidly, growing sexually mature within 5-6 months! In addition to all that, rats are extremely intelligent. They're known to live in large, hierarchical groups that's similar to mafias. Smaller rats will often scout and risk their lives testing traps and poisons. When they die, members of the group will then stay away from such traps. If New York City really want these pests gone, they'll need to invest a lot of their resources into getting rid of them which even then is only a temporary solution until the rats come back and repopulate the city again within a few months.


	6. Flatter than Space Junk

~

'Ah~ What a lovely day in the park,' Oklahoma muses in his morning jog through the park.

He stops to catch his breath. He looks up to admire the beautiful sky, letting the sun shine down on his smiling face.

But then, he slowly realizes it's still morning. He looks to the side to see the actual sun coming from the East. He looks back up at the fake sun, now bigger than before.

He squints his eyes at the strange sight. "What... the-"

_Thunk!_

A six-inch piece of metal hits him on the head, knocking him out cold.

Florida shows up on the scene. "Aw, shiiit! I'm not going to get sued, am I?"

He groans.

☆☆☆☆☆

"Waaaaaaahhh!" Kansas sobs into her arms as she sits on a grassy hill for some reason.

Nebraska runs on over to her upon hearing her cries. "What's wrong? Did Missouri try to hurt you again?"

Kansas sniffles. "Nebby..." She hiccups as she looks up at her.

"Yes? What is it?"

"Am I... Am I really that flat?"

"... What?"

Kansas peers down her shirt. "Is it because I'm not eating my greens? Is that why my chest hasn't been growing in the last hundred years? Is that it?" She turns to her for answers.

Nebby sighs. "Calm down-"

"Calm down?! I'm flatter than a pancake! A pancake!"

"There's nothing wrong with being- wait. A pancake?"

She nods her head. "Some mean jerks thought it would be funny comparing me to a pancake." She crosses her arms over her chest. "Do you have any idea what it's like to be compared to a pancake? Other girls my age get compared to large hills and majestic mountains. But when it comes to me, I get compared to a freakin' flapjack!" she whimpers before breaking down into tears again.

"Kansas..." Nebraska kneels down next to her. "The size of your chest shouldn't matter. What matters is what's in here." She points to Kansas's chest.

"My left boob?"

"I mean your heart," she corrects her. "You have a heart of gold, and that what counts. No need to worry about other people's opinions. Okay?"

Kansas looks down on her chest. "... I guess you're right," she mumbles.

She softly smiles. "Good." She pats her head.

~ Hetalia! ~

The front door to Nebraska's house slams open.

"Nebby! I'm not the flattest state after all!" Kansas exclaims with a giant smile on her face.

Nebraska turns her attention away from the TV to meet Kansas's eyes. "Um, congratulations?"

The Sunflower State hops up and down in excitement. "I'm only the seventh flattest state! That means six other states are flatter than me, so I don't have to feel bad about my small breasts anymore!"

"That's... wonderful. I guess..."

"By the way, you wouldn't believe who's the flattest state?"

"Who?"

Meanwhile in Florida...

"Hell fucking no!" Florida lifts her sunglasses off her face. "I have the body of a Caribbean goddess! My Latina blood has gifted me with boobs that can make guys bleed out their noses and bow down to me! What the fuck these bitches talking about?" She throws her smartphone in the sand in disgust.

California, tanning on a beach towel, snickers, "Are you sure those aren't breast implants?"

She glares at the smug Californian. "Blossom, sushi roll."

An alligator shuffles out from underneath the beach sand in a grumbling hiss as it charges after the Californian.

Cali screams and runs for her dear life. "Bad, gator! Stay away, or I'll turn you to a piece of luggage!"

 _Snap!_   _Hisssss!_

"Aaaaaaahhhh!"

Florida shakes her head. "Flattest state. Bah! We'll see who's the flattest once I'm done with them!" She crosses her arms over her chest.

☆☆☆☆☆

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ On January 22, 1997, Lottie Williams was strolling through a park in Tulsa, Oklahoma when she spotted a flash of light that looked like a meteor. The six-inch piece of metal from a disintegrating rocket hit her shoulder, marking her as the first person to be hit by space junk. Fortunately, she wasn't injured by the impact.
> 
> \+ In 2003, a group of geographers found the time to see whether Kansas was indeed flatter than a pancake. With 1.000 being perfectly flat, they actually measured the flatness of the state and compared it to an IHOP pancake. In conclusion of the study, the pancake was measured at 0.957 while Kansas was around 0.9997, thus confirming Kansas to be flatter than a pancake.
> 
> \- After the study was published, there were a few critics who found flaws with the study. In fact, another study was conducted a decade later that measured the flatness of the states to see which state was indeed the flattest. The top ten states concluded to be the flattest were: Indiana, Nevada, Texas, Kansas, Delaware, Minnesota, Louisiana, North Dakota, Illinois, and Florida, being the flattest state.


	7. Hot and Cold (Part 1)

~

"Fake news!"

"It's not fake! It says so right here!"

"Lies! Total lies!"

"Are you stupid? There's no way that's true!"

"Where are the facts? Where's the evidence?"

"It fucking says it right here! Why don't you believe me?"

"Because what's written here is a scam to convince your gullible brain into believing their fascist bullshit!"

"It's not bullshit! Look at the state of this country! They're telling the truth!"

"They're twisting the truth and replacing it with blatant lies! Lies I tell you!"

"Fake news!"

"Stop being a crybaby!"

"Oh my god! I'm going to shank a bitch if someone mentions fake news one more time!"

"You social justice warriors are worrying over nothing."

"Shut your pie hole! You don't know shit!"

"Fuck you! All you care about is your political agenda; not the state of this country!"

"I do love my country! Which is why I support their actions!"

"You're agreeing with a bunch of racists!"

"They're not racists!"

"Yes, they are!"

"AaAaAaaaaaaaaAaAhhhh!"  

"Jesus Christ! I wanna die!"

Sitting at the back of the meeting table, Alaska and Hawaii watched the whole room become a shitstorm on steroids.

"I'm really glad we don't live on the mainland," Alaska whispered.

Hawaii agreed. "Yeah. Me, too..."

☆☆☆☆☆

The 49th and 50th states had been close ever since they joined the Union, being the last states to do so. Even though their upbringings and cultures are vastly different, they remained pretty close friends throughout the years of their existence. During one point in their friendship, they agreed to visit each other's houses. This was how it went during Hawaii's trip to Alaska's home.

"Brr! Why is it still cold? Isn't it supposed to be spring by now?" Hawaii shivered, enduring the chill of Alaska's early spring weather.

She stood along the sidewalk of the airport while Alaska packed her suitcase in the back of her rusty truck. "Didn't you bring a bigger coat?" the Alaskan questioned.

She shook her head. "All I have is this light sweater I'm wearing now."

Alaska sighed. She took off her dark olive green parka and handed it to her. The parka was two sizes too large for the Hawaiian, swallowing her up like a giant lettuce roll. Nevertheless, she wasn't freezing anymore. She thanked Alaska, however, she noticed her friend was only wearing a flaxen sweater.

"Won't you freeze?" Hawaii questioned in a concerned manner.

She blinked her eyes. "... I never freeze."

"Oh... That's good to know."

~ Hetalia! ~

Hawaii groaned. "Are we there yet?"

"That's the hundredth time you asked that."

She pouted. "Well, that's the hundredth time you said that!" The Hawaiian looked out the window. "Oh, wow! You live here?"

After seeing miles of road and wilderness for three hours straight since their departure from the airport, Hawaii finally got a glimpse of a small, Alaskan town. Initially, she was awed by the sight. But slowly, her smile disappeared as soon as she got used to the town's dull landscape.

"Not really," Alaska answered her questioned. "I live an hour away from here."

"Another hour?!" she groaned. "Where do you live? In the forest?"

"Yeah."

"I..." She scowled. "Can't you live closer to the airport next time?"

~ Hetalia... ~

After another hour of driving, they finally reached Alaska's house. Hawaii's jaw dropped onto the snow seeing the log mansion for the first time in her entire life.

"That's your house?!"

"Uh-huh." Alaska grabbed Hawaii's luggage out of the back of her truck.

"It's so big!"

"Of course it is. My house is the biggest after all."

"That's not a house! That's a castle!"

"If you say so."

Hawaii ran up up to the house while Alaska calmly followed behind her. Once inside, Hawaii was greeted by a small, fluffy, red and white dog. It looked like a cute, miniature husky.

She gasped. "Puppy!" She went over to pet the puppy.

"I'm going to get the rest of your luggage." Alaska went back outside.

At first, the Klee Kai was cautious of the stranger. But slowly, he understood the Hawaiian was not a threat. When the pup rolled over and showed off his white, fluffy belly, Hawaii had no trouble figuring out where to pet him next.

"Oh, who's a good boy? Who's a good boy?" She grinned.

As she continued to pet the puppy, her ears perked up to a rumbling echo. She thought it was her stomach until she heard the howls and woofs. She gazed up at a pack of dogs running toward her.

"Aaaaaahhh!"

From outside, Alaska heard Hawaii's screams. She dropped the luggage and ran back inside her house. "What happened?" She saw Hawaii getting devoured by a pack of huskies and malamutes. "Hold on! I'll get you out of there!" She dived into the pile of fluff.

~ Hetalia! ~

After surviving an onslaught of thick fur, Hawaii finally got herself adjusted to Alaska's house.

"Where are you going?" Hawaii questioned Alaska who was about to head out the front door.

"I'm going ice fishing." She showed her the fishing pole she carried.

"Oooh! Can I come with you? I never went ice fishing before."

Alaska cocked her head. "Are you sure? It's kinda boring. Plus, I don't want you to catch a cold."

Hawaii nodded with sparkling eyes. "That's a risk I'm willing to take. Also, I like fishing. Ice fishing shouldn't be that different. If anything, I think it'll be fun."

A few hours later...

"This is really boring..." Hawaii mumbled.

The two sat in foldable chairs around a pair of ice holes. They held their fishing rods, waiting for a tug at the end of their line. After spending ten minutes just sitting there, Hawaii was already growing bored. She was about to complain when she felt a tug on her string.

"H-Hey! I think I got something!" She reeled in her line. At first, the line was coming back smoothly, but then she felt a heavy snag that was powerful enough to get her out of her chair. "W-Whoa! I think I got a big one!" She struggled to reel in whatever's at the other end of the line. 

Alaska stood up and went up to support the small Hawaiian. "Don't let go!"

Together, they reeled in the line with all their might, pulling what appeared to a gigantic, gray fish out of the water. But before they could see their catch, a pudgy seal leaped out of the freezing hold, taking the entire fish into its gaping mouth in one whole bite. They blinked their eyes at this unexpected catch.

A creepy, violet aura crawled over Alaska's back. "... Have you tried seal before?" She lifted a pipe from out of her coat.

"WE'RE NOT CLUBBING SEALS!" The Hawaiian held her back.

~ Hetalia! ~

Thanks to a fat, greedy seal who should be fortunate it was allowed to live after the stunt it pulled, the two went back to the house empty-handed. Fortunately, Alaska had some venison in one of her freezers. She managed to cook up a few slabs and served it as tonight's meal with mashed potatoes and grilled asparagus on the side. The two were able to enjoy their warm dinner while watching a couple of episodes of  _Friends_.

"Aw~ That was delicious." She patted her belly.

"Really? I was about to fetch out the dessert."

"Ooh! Dessert!"

She giggled. "Wait right there. I'll be right back with dessert." She left the table and went into the kitchen. 

A few minutes later, she came back with two bowls and a pair of spoons in her hands. "I know it's winter, but are you ready for some ice cream?"

Hawaii nodded with a pure smile on her face. "Ice cream is always great no matter... the..." She was presented with a bowl of blackberry mush. "Uh..." She poked at the ice cream with her spoon.

"Delicious!" Alaska hummed as she ate a giant spoonful of 'ice cream'. "Try it!"

The Hawaiian took a tiny scoop of the indigo mush out of the bowl. She sniffed it, but there was barely any smell; only a frosty chill from being in the freezer. Not wanting to be rude, Hawaii pretty much shrugged and took a leap of faith. She placed the spoon in her mouth and tasted the mush with her tongue. "Hm..." She slowly chewed the dessert. Her faced relaxed as she continued to chew it before swallowing. "This... This isn't as bad as I thought." She took another scoop of ice cream and put it in her mouth.

Alaska smiled. "I'm glad you like it. Whenever I tried getting the others to eat it, they would always refuse whenever I told them it contained animal fat."

She choked and coughed. "Animal fat?!"

~ Hetalia! ~

"Hawaii! Where are you?" Alaska looked around her large house.

She didn't find Hawaii in her guest room or the bathroom. She assumed the Hawaiian was lost which didn't surprise her. After checking multiple rooms, she finally found her on the second floor, outside on the balcony. Alaska noticed what she was seeing and went outside to join her.

"Is it true you don't see the sun on most days?" said Hawaii, still looking up at the darkened blue sky.

"Yeah." Alaska stood next to her. "But it's not that bad." She softly smiled.

Hawaii smiled. "At least you can see the stars. And those lights, I heard about them, but this is my first time seeing them."

They watched the Northern Lights sway in the night sky.

"Beautiful, right?"

She nodded. "Yeah. It makes me mind the col- Achoo!"

She giggled. "Let's head inside. I'll make you some hot cocoa before bed."

They head back inside and continued watching the Northern Lights from indoors before going to bed.

☆☆☆☆☆

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ I didn't specify when the introduction scene took place, but I'm sure everyone who's aware of the current state of America can take a guess. Overall, that scene basically sums up the mood of U.S. politics post-2015.
> 
> \+ Among state pairings, one of the more common ships is Alaska x Hawaii. This chapter mostly showcases their interaction as well as give a brief glimpse of Alaska's lifestyle which is a different experience compared to parts of the United States.
> 
> \- Some Alaskans live in small towns that are known to be remote where transportation and certain facilities are limited, especially during the colder months.
> 
> \- My Alaska OC owns a bunch of dogs, mainly Alaskan huskies, malamutes, and a klee kai.
> 
> \- In certain cold places like Alaska, ice fishing is a common outdoor activity. Also, seal hunting, while a debated topic, is nevertheless legal under strict limitations. Seal hunting in Alaska isn't as active as other parts of the world, but many Inuits continue to hunt seal under the conditions of subsistence hunting and fishing.
> 
> \- Akutaq/Eskimo Ice Cream (not really ice cream) is an Alaskan (and Canadian arctic) dessert that's usually made of various ingredients such as: berries, tundra greens, fish, meat, tallow (animal fat), and animal oils. Modern variations include raisins, sugar, milk, and Crisco (a shortening product).
> 
> \- The Aurora Borealis or Northern Lights is a natural light phenomenon one can commonly see near the northern magnetic pole. Alaska's human name is based on this occurrence.


	8. Hot and Cold (Part 2)

__

~

_Previously on 50☆Stars: The States Annual Meeting continues to be in chaos. And now back to our daily scheduled program._

~

"Grabbing women by the pussies is the equivalent to yanking guys by the balls! It's sudden and unpleasant!"

"We get it already! You hate the asshole. He's still our president."

"Fuck no! I'm not accepting a misogynist as my president! #Not my president!"

"So, you're fine with horny Bill, but not him? You're a hypocrite."

"Shut your damn mouth!"

"The nation's doomed! We're all going to die!"

"You're overreacting."

"Fascism! Racism! Sexism! How's all that great?!"

"Calm your tits, dude."

"How could I be calm? He declared himself a nationalist! He's pretty much a Nazi at this point!"

"Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!"

"She just said the N-word. Ooooooh..."

"This is getting ridiculous."

"You know what's also ridiculous? Building a fucking damn wall!"

"That wall is going to protect us from criminals and drug lords!"

"Have you heard of something called the Great Wall of China? If that thing can't protect China from the Mongols, how's this wall going to protect us from the Mexicans?"

"I-I... ur... It's going to work! I trust him!"

"You're putting your trust in an angry flapjack with baby hands!"

"Better than another Clinton! Remember Benghazi?"

"Oh, here we go again!"

"I wish Bernie was our president..."

The meeting continued to spiral into chaos as usual. Alaska and Hawaii continued to watch the whole affair seats, feeling uncomfortable to say the least.

"Do you think we can sneak out without D.C. noticing us?" Hawaii whispered.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea..." Alaska mumbled unsure.

"Do you prefer being here then?"

"... Okay, let's go."

The two proceeded to sneak out without notice.

☆☆☆☆☆

After visiting Alaska's house, it was Hawaii's turn to show Alaska around her home.

"So...hot..." Alaska panted as they left the airport.

"What are you talking about? This weather feels so nice! I can finally see the sun now." Hawaii smiled seeing the sun shine brightly in the brightly blue sky.

"Ugh... Why is it so hot?"

"Take off your coat then." She referred to the light blue parka Alaska still wore since departing from her home.

"But... I feel naked without my coat."

"But you'll feel so much better!"

"Well... Alright then." She proceeded to unzip her parka, revealing a thick, woven sweater underneath it.

She frowned. "Take the sweater off, too."

Her eyes widen. "But-"

"Take it off!"

The Alaskan pressed her lips before taking off her wool sweater as well. When she did, there was another sweater underneath it.

The Hawaiian blinked her eyes. "... We're going to make a quick stop for some appropriate clothes."

~ Hetalia... ~

Alaska stepped out of a shop wearing a bright green, hibiscus-printed Hawaiian shirt, banana yellow shorts that reached below her knees, hot pink sandals, and a lei necklace. She was pretty much a walking rainbow, much to her displeasure. Normally, she wouldn't wear such bright clothes, preferring to wear clothes that blended her with the landscape. She also didn't like the fact she was exposing so much skin. It made her feel somewhat vulnerable. Despite her complaints, she forced a smile seeing Hawaii come out of the shop with her, wearing her own brightly colored Hawaiian shirt, shorts, and sandals.

"Awesome! You look great!"

"I do?" Alaska thought the opposite.

"Yeah! Don't you feel better without those thick clothes giving you a sauna?"

"I guess," she admitted, "although I still prefer to wear them."

"Well, at least you're comfortable now."

Once they returned to their taxi cab, they continued to ride it back to Hawaii's house.

"I thought this place would've looked more like..."

"More like what?"

"More like I saw on TV." Alaska looked out the window.

The town they were in didn't look like the commercials or TV shows she saw. It looked more like one of her towns, only it was much warmer and more vivid in colors. The buildings were no higher than the shortest palm trees. The people she saw looked like average folk; not the kind who strolled down the beach like bikini models. Where were the tall, white buildings? Where were the chic shopping districts? Everything she saw so far was fine, but it didn't seem to match up with her original perception of the paradisal island.

"Well, the stuff on TV is more focused on the city and resorts. The rest of my home is more average looking," she admitted while tickling her nose.

"How come you don't live there?"

"Dude, those places are freakin' expensive! There's no way I could afford that! Plus, I prefer the small towns than the city."

"Really?"

"Yup! I don't need to go swimming in those crystal clear pools or dine at the fanciest restaurants. I have something better." She smirked.

 

~ Hetalia! ~

"This is where you live?" Alaska awed at the luscious greenery and the giant, blue ocean behind the house.

"Uh-huh!" She nodded with pride.

"Not as big as my house though."

"That's because this is a normal house. You live in a castle," she chuckled.

"So, is that 'something better' the beach?"

"Yep! We should go swimming once we're done unpacking our things in the house."

"But, I don't have a swimsuit."

"That's okay. I bought you one."

"You did?"

"Yeah!" She pulled a blue, two-piece swimsuit out of a shopping bag. "I got it for you while you were trying on clothes. It should fit you well. If not, we can always go shopping again."

Alaska squirmed at the sight of the revealing, tight-fitting swimsuit. "Um... Well, we just got back from a long flight. And I'm feeling pretty tired, so..."

"Oh, come on! Swimming is great! You know how to swim, don't you?"

"I-I do! I mean, I can swim. It's just... I don't feel like swimming today." She glanced down at her feet.

"Oh..." She scratched the back of her head. "Well, if you don't want to go swimming, that's fine. Besides, we can always swim another time." 

The Alaskan softly smiled. "Thanks."

"For what? You're my guest. It's my job to make sure you're comfortable and having a good time." Hawaii grabbed her suitcase. "Anyway, let me take you to your guest room before we decide what to do for the rest of today."

"Okay."

The two went inside Hawaii's house with their belongings.

~ Hetalia! ~

After they unpacked their belongings, the two decided to spend the rest of the day fishing along the rocky shore of the beach.

"So, it never gets cold at all?"

"What do you mean by cold? I consider cold anything below 70."

"70? That's perfect weather." There was a gentle tug on Alaska's line. "I got one!"

"Me, too!" Hawaii yelled as soon as her line was pulled.

They reeled in their lines. Hawaii was the first to pull in her's. At the end of her hook was a foot-and-a-half long red snapper. She unhooked her fish and placed it in a large bucket of water. She looked to Alaska to see what she caught, however, Alaska was still reeling in her line.

Alaska's eyes widened seeing a dorsal fin with a black tip come above the crystal blue water. "Did... Did I just catch a shark?" She crouched down as she slowly reeled in her line.

At the end of her line was a blacktip reef shark. The two-foot long shark, tired from fighting the line, slowly swam around the black rocks. Alaska pulled the shark onto shore, letting it flop on the rocks before pinning it down with her hand. She was careful not to get her fingers bitten off as she took the hook out of the shark's sharp mouth.

"Wow! You caught a shark!" Hawaii exclaimed.

"No big deal."

"No big deal?"

"I caught a few sharks before in my home. This isn't any different although the sharks I catch are usually much bigger than this one."

"There are sharks in your home?!"

"Yeah." She looked down at the shark she just caught. "Do you have any use for shark?"

Hawaii shook her head. "Naw."

"Okay. I'm letting it go now." She carefully carried the shark in her hands and released it back into the water.

The two watched the shark swam away before going back to fishing again.

~ Hetalia! ~

Alaska burped into her mouth. "That red snapper was delicious."

"Thanks!" Hawaii giggled. "I hope you're still hungry because I also have something else for you to try." She giggled. "After tolerating your Eskimo ice cream, I decided to make you one of my own special desserts unique to my home."

She slowly nodded. "Okay."

Hawaii left the table and went to the nearby kitchen. When she came back, she held a small cake. The cake was layered with pineapple rings on top. Along the edges were brown pieces Alaska assumed was a slightly browned crust. Never in her life had she seen a cake with pineapple on it, let alone tasted one.

The Hawaiian kept a smile on her face as she served her friend a slice. Alaska took a moment to observe the warm presentation and its flaky texture before plopping a forkful into her mouth.

"Hmm." Alaska blinked her eyes.

"Like it?" Hawaii grinned.

She swallowed. "A bit sweet and..." she ate another forkful, "... slightly savory?" She ate another bite, this forkful in particular was mostly the crust without any pineapple. "... Did you do something with the crust?"

"Yup!" She nodded. "It's pineapple spam upside down cake!"

Alaska blinked her eyes. "Okay..."

She pouted. "Why aren't you surprised? You should be disgusted by it!"

"Why?"

"It's because there's pineapple and spam in a cake!"

"So? Food is still food. It's a bit sweet for my taste, but it doesn't taste all that bad." She took another bite out of the cake.

Hawaii sighed. "I thought I could weird you out as revenge. Then again, you eat ice cream made out of animal fat."

"Animal fat in ice cream isn't that weird."

"Yes, it is!"

~ Hetalia! ~

After taking a shower, Alaska wandered around the house looking for Hawaii. She finally found her outside the house, alone to herself. The Hawaiian sat in a hammock underneath a group of palms on a grassy hill. Her eyes watched the setting sun while playing the ukulele in a relaxed manner. She was murmuring a song in a language Alaska couldn't understand. Even so, she understood it was sacred and special to Hawaii. She listened to the song for a bit before going up to her friend

Hawaii turned her head when she heard footsteps. She softly smiled seeing it was her friend. "Everything okay so far?"

"Yeah." She nodded. "I can see why a lot of people would want to come here, let alone live here. This place is pretty much paradise." She looked down at the ukulele. "What song were you singing?"

She scratched the back of her head. "To be honest, I don't know."

"Don't know?"

"It's a bit complicated." She sadly sighed. "I remember the song from the times my sister sang to me. She didn't tell me what it was called before... she... Anyway, the song is something only I seem to know."

"Oh... Perhaps you can teach me."

"Teach you?" She frowned. "I'm not sure. It's in a language you don't know, so..."

"I don't mind. Even if I don't know the meaning of the lyrics, I think it would be nice to preserve the song, perhaps by telling more people about it."

"You really don't mind?"

Alaska softly smiled. "So, how does the song go?"

"Well, it goes like this..."

Alaska and Hawaii laid together on the hammock until the stars appeared in the sky. By the time they returned to the house for bed, Alaska knew the first lines of the ancient song, later learning the rest in the days she later spent with her friend.

☆☆☆☆☆

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ So, U.S. politics is still chaotic as usual. That's all I'll say on the matter...
> 
> \+ Anyway, this chapter is the continuation of Alaska and Hawaii's friendship with Hawaii giving a tour of her home.
> 
> \- Hawaii's home is located in the tropics, so her home is pleasantly warm throughout the year. Alaska doesn't tolerate the heat, having lived in an environment that's known to get below freezing. On another note, she prefers to wear conservative clothing, so she's usually reluctant to take her coat off unless she wants to.
> 
> \- Hawaii is usually shown as a splendid paradise on TV, full of chic shops and clean resorts, when in reality there's so much more to Hawaii outside its cities and tourist spots. There are towns and villages across the Hawaiian Islands where many Hawaiians live average lives like any typical American from the mainland.
> 
> \- In my headcannon, I picture Hawaii living close to the ocean.
> 
> \- Shore fishing in Hawaii is pretty lax in regard to licenses and regulations. Fish like red snapper are commonly caught off the shore and later used in Hawaiian cuisine. On another note, there are many sharks in Hawaii, however, some sharks like the blacktip reef shark rarely bite people.
> 
> \- Pineapple Spam Upside Down Cake is one of various Spam recipes originating in Hawaii (although Spam itself originated in the Midwest). Supposedly the Spam's saltiness and the pineapple's sweetness balance each other out into a tasty dessert.
> 
> \- To those who don't know, there are two Hawaii OCs. Ancient Hawaii is present-day Hawaii's older sister who disappeared upon the overthrow of the Kingdom of Hawaii.


	9. The Curse of the Terrible Towel

****

~

**December 2017.**

Massachusetts was in a good mood after witnessing the New England Patriots beat the Pittsburgh Steelers in the playoffs, making his NFL team one step closer to winning back-to-back Super Bowls.

As he was boarding his flight back home for the holidays, he stumbled upon a black and yellow towel on the floor in the middle of the aisle. The young man quickly recognized the towel as the prideful symbol of Pittsburgh, a terribly famous icon Pennsylvania would always wave around whenever she cheered for her team. Having recently beaten Pennsylvania's favorite team, Massachusetts couldn't help but smirk to himself.

He quickly got his phone out and snapped a picture of his shoes trampling the Terrible Towel before sitting in his assigned seat on the plane. He managed to upload the picture onto Twitter before his flight took off. Unaware to this Patriots fan, the towel he disrespected disappeared without a trace. It was never seen again...

☆☆☆☆☆

**February 2018.**

It was Super Bowl LII. Or, Super Bowl 52 for those who couldn't read Roman numerals.

Minnesota was the host of the Super Bowl that year. The two NFL teams going against each were the New England Patriots, the previous champions of last year's Super Bowl, and the Philadelphia Eagles, a team who had never won a Super Bowl before coming this far in the 2017 season. To put it simply, this particular event was important for both teams.

Before the kickoff, a certain VIP room within the stadium was becoming rowdier than the other VIP rooms that surround it. This room was full of states whom are making bets on who was going to win this year: Massachusetts or Pennsylvania.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Massachusetts glared at the three states who betted their money on Pennsylvania. "Connecticut, why are you betting against me? You're always supporting me."

"First off, I only support winners," Connecticut corrected him in a posh tone. "Don't get me wrong, the Patriots are a good team. However, I have a feeling they're not going to win this one."

"What are you talking about? I always win!"

"Not today, Masshole!"

Everybody turned to Pennsylvania, the young granny who cloaked herself in a midnight green and silver jersey, her face covered in black and white war paint, and in her waving hand was a towel with the the Philadelphia Eagles logo printed over the words, "Fly Eagles Fly". If it wasn't obvious by her lack of conservative tone, this Pennsylvanian was hyped up for American football, victory, and revenge.

Massachusetts made a mocking laugh. "Look, Penny. The Patriots already beat the Steelers before the New Year. They'll surely pummel the Eagles without breaking a sweat."

"I wouldn't be so sure if I were you," Ohio muttered.

"You're one to talk after your  _perfect_  season with the Browns."

Everyone in the room oohed.

The Buckeye State fumed. "W-Well, at least I'm not cursed."

"My eyebrows are perfectly normal!" Massachusetts got up in his face.

Ohio smirked. "You still don't know?"

He quirked one of his thick eyebrows. "What's so funny?" He looked and saw some states snickering to themselves. "If this is a prank, this one is weak."

"Oh, Masshole," Maryland blissfully sighed as she shook her head. "You haven't heard of the Curse of the Terrible Towel?"

"Curse of the Terrible Towel?" He scoffed. "Getting me scared over a mustard rag isn't going to stop me from winning another Super Bowl."

"Oh, you should be scared." Pennsylvania smirked. "That beautiful towel you stepped on over a month ago has the tendency to bewitch sports teams like the plague. Soon, you'll learn what it means to disrespect me. Wahahaha!"

He frowned. "You guys are being ridiculous. Curses come from pissed-off ghosts, Busby's chair, and New Yorkers. That ordinary cloth I stepped on over a month ago can't possibly curse me. If it did, why hadn't the curse stopped me in the playoffs?"

"You dimwit!" Ohio shouted. "It's all a part of the Terrible Towel's plan. When you think nothing is going to happen to you, BAM! It fucks you up! I should know for that dumb towel screwed my chances to win a Super Bowl in 2005!"

Maryland raised her hand. "I can attest the curse is real. During one season, I stomped on that towel and lost all my games against the Steelers that year." She shivered. "Even if you win the Super Bowl, the curse has other plans for you..."

Massachusetts tried not to be fazed by the sight of Ohio and Maryland being close to tears. "All of that is a coincidence."

"Is it a coincidence?" Pennsylvania questioned him with a smirk on her cheeky face. "You remind me of Arizona. She was going against me in Super Bowl XLIII. Like you, she disrespected the Terrible Towel by blowing her nose and wiping her armpits with it before her flight to the Super Bowl." She happily chuckled. "And just like that, her pride was shattered into a million pieces."

He took a giant gulp, yet he still kept his composure. "Well, that was the Cardinals, so their loss wasn't so much of a surprise."

"You're right," she agreed. "The Patriots losing, now that's a surprise."

"Ooooooohhh..." the room echoed.

He gritted his teeth. "We'll see about that! I'll prove this stupid towel curse isn't real! And you know why? It's because my team is the best in the entire NFL! When I win, I'm going to show you losers my shiny trophy while wiping my ass with that towel." He pointed to the towel Penny was holding.

"It's not the same towel, you know," Connecticut whispered to him.

"Same state! Who cares!"

"I believe in you, Brother," Maine quietly cheered.

"Thanks, Maine. I'm glad to have some support around here at least."

Penny sighed. "Well, the kickoff is about to start. We'll soon see the curse taking effect."

"Yeah, we'll soon see the Patriots coming on top as always!" he huffed.

~ Hetalia! ~

"The winners of Super Bowl LII are the Philadelphia Eagles with a final score of 41-33 against the New England Patriots!" the announcer's voice boomed from the speakers as the stadium roared in midnight green, black, white, and silver.

Most of the states congratulated Pennsylvania for her Philadelphia team had finally won their first ever Super Bowl. Even better, they won against the much loathed New England Patriots, making her win all the more impressive. For Massachusetts, this game came as a big slap to his ego. He was confident of his win until the fourth quarter fucked him in the ass. And not in a pleasant way.

"No fucking way. The curse can't be real. I refuse to believe it." He sulked at the bar, drinking his woes right away after that humiliating loss.

Maine patted his back. "Well, there's always next year." She softly smiled.

☆☆☆☆☆

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ After the New England Patriots beat the Pittsburgh Steelers in the 2017 playoffs, a photo surfaced of a Terrible Towel on the aisle floor of a flight from Pittsburgh to Boston. This photo was rarely talked about, however, in my opinion, I suspected that incident might've played a role in the Patriots' loss to the Eagles in Super Bowl LII.
> 
> \+ To those who aren't familiar with American football, in summary, the Terrible Towel is a black and yellow towel created by Myron Cope in the 1980s as a symbol for both the Steelers and the City of Pittsburgh. The towel was originally seen as a joke, but it soon grew popular among Steelers fans as a "rally towel". On a fun note, many Pittsburgh fans are known to bring their towels everywhere from Mt. Everest to the International Space Station.
> 
> \- Supposedly, the Terrible Towel has the ability to curse any opposing sports team who disrespects it in any way such as stomping on it, wiping their cleats, armpits, or butts with it, tearing it in half, and even burning it. Not long after the incident, such teams either end up losing to the Steelers, losing their games throughout one to multiple seasons, causing injury or mishaps to the players who actively disrespect it, and costing teams their chance to win championships and even Super Bowls. One may think these teams should know by now not to mess with the Terrible Towel. Oh well, it's their loss.


	10. Provinces vs. States

~

The Canadian Provinces: a strange land full of friendly, moose fuckers and maple syrup maniacs. Like the 50 States of America, there are people who represent these provinces, ten to be exact.

"Who are the Canadian Provinces?" one who's not familiar with them may ask. Or, any American for that matter.

Well, here's your answer according to the American states who are familiar with their neighbors in the North:

"Ontario? He's like me but without my popularity. So, not that important. Also, the Leafs are shit," says New York.

"I love Quebec! Her poutine is the best!" Vermont nods. "Let's see... I guess if I have to point out a flaw... She's a bit of a French snob. And I'm part French!"

"Yeah. Maine and I often piss off Nova Scotia a lot," Massachusetts recalls. "If you want to know what she's like, she's basically another Scotland. That's her name, right? New Scotland but Canadian. Yeah. That's what she is."

"Oh, right. New Brunswick exists..." Maine chuckles in an awkward manner.

"Manitoba is pretty nice once you get to know him." Minnesota smiles. "He may seem cold at first, but he's a good person once he gets past his shyness."

"British Columbia is a total weeaboo," says Washington. "Like, imagine Oregon with Colorado's obsession with weed, California's love for Asia and movies, and some maple syrup. That's British Columbia."

"Prince Edward Island, what a name." Idaho sighs. "Since he likes potatoes, I guess he's cool in my book."

"Saskatchewan?" North Dakota shrugs. "My sister called her Sasquatch one time, and she refused to talk to my sister ever since."

"Alberta and I are pretty close friends," says Montana. "Wyoming tells me he has a crush on me although I think he's pulling my leg."

"Newfoundland and Labrador..." Oregon mumbles with a finger to her bottom lip. "... I honestly know more about their dogs than them." She hides her face in shame. "... I'm a terrible person."

☆☆☆☆☆

It all began when Michigan opened her big mouth. "You suck!" she yelled across the lake.

Not long after she said that, Ontario responded from his side of the lake. "You suck as well!"

And that was the beginning of the Canada-USA rivalry.

"You challenged the Canadian Provinces to a hockey match?" New York gave her the stink eye.

Michigan nodded with a clenched fist. "They provoked us first!"

"Really? The Canadians?"

"Does it matter?"

"I mean..."

"We need to prove our dominance by winning against them in a hockey game."

"And, how does this involve me?"

"Our team needs six players to compete against them." She pointed a finger at him. "And I'm choosing you to be our goaltender!"

"And the rest of our players?"

"Well, I'm playing, obviously," she explained. "Minnesota is also playing because she's, by far, the best among all of us in the sport. Massachusetts is also playing, and Connecticut agreed to play as well, only because Massachusetts is playing. And because Illinois is busy doing stuff for the Mob, I had to replace him with Wisconsin which isn't that big of a loss. And if you joined us, we basically got our team."

New York took a moment to consider her plan. "... Is money involved in this?"

"Um... No, b-but we do win and prove America is better than Canada! Plus, our pride is at stake, so you better join us, or else we'll be labelled as losers for the rest of our lives! To Canadians, no less!"

He sighed. "Fine, fine. I'll join you. Just tell me when so I can excuse myself from work."

"Awesome!" She skipped out of his office. "You better be there, or else I'm gonna beat you with my wrench!"

"Yeah, yeah." He brushed her off before getting back to work.

~ Hetalia! ~

Somewhere at a frozen pond in the United States...

"Where are those Canadians?" Michigan grumbled under her cold breath. "It's already noon."

The rest of her fellow states sat at a picnic table while she stood, looking out at the other side of the pond. They were ready to play, fit in their hockey gear and hockey sticks in hand. The only thing preventing them from going out on the ice were their rivals who had yet to show up at the designated time and place.

"I'm bored." Connecticut yawned.

"I bet they're scared of losing to us," Wisconsin laughed.

"I doubt it. You know our neighbors, especially when it comes to hockey," Minnesota mumbled.

"Still, they should've been here by now," New York grumbled. "I'm not going to wait on them forever."

"If they don't show, that means we automatically win. Right?" Massachusetts pointed out.

"How's that a win?" Michigan complained, "Winning against cowards doesn't mean anything in my book. I want to crush them and show them who's the best on the ice! I want to shove my glove in Ontario's dumb face and tell his maple-loving ass I'm better than him! That America is number one at hockey, and he can't prove me wro-"

A snowball smacked the back of Michigan's head. She turned her head and glared at the perpetrator who did that. She locked eyes on a blond man whose eyes gleamed like amethysts. She was about to charge at him with her hockey stick, but the cheesehead managed to hold her back from attacking their rival.

"Come on, Wisconsin! Let me have a piece of him!"

"Stop it, Michie! You can focus all that anger during the game, but not now."

The Ontarian snickered. "Yeah, Michie," he mocked. "You should do what your friend says. At least she isn't a brute, unlike you."

"Why you!" Michigan struggled to free herself from Wisconsin's grasp.

Meanwhile, five other Canadian Provinces arrived at the frozen pond.

"Oh my." A French-Canadian woman with long, white hair and blue-violet eyes approached the frozen pond. "Is this where we're going win? A children's pond?" She huffed in disappointment. "This isn't even worth speaking in French."

"The winter scenery is pretty at least," a young woman with sleek, dark hair and almond-shaped, green eyes admired the snowy pines surrounding the isolated area.

"You're late." New York approached the group.

Quebec frowned. "At least we're here." She flippeds her white hair over her shoulder in a dramatic manner. "You Americans think you can go anywhere by car. It's not easy for us to get together on time, you know."

"Hey. I thought Nova Scotia was joining you guys," Massachusetts noted the absence of the Nova Scotian.

"About that," British Columbia spoke up, "she's currently getting over a 'three-day' hangover. Whatever that means..."

"So, who's replacing her?"

A man with black hair and dark blue eyes reluctantly raised his hand. "I-I am."

Connecticut cocked his head. "And... Who are you?"

His eyes widened. "You don't recognize me?"

The Constitution State shook his head. "Nope. No clue."

"I-It's me! Manitoba!"

"You're a province?"

Manitoba sulked in defeat.

A young woman with dark skin scowled. "You shouldn't be mean to him."

He gave her a weird look. "And who are you?"

She blinked her eyes. "I-I'm Saskatchewan."

"Sasss..."

"Saskatchewan."

"Sassketch-"

"Saskatchewan."

"Sesketchiwun?" He smirked.

"Saskatchewan! It's Saskatchewan!" She ended up crying with Manitoba over their forgotten identities.

"Hmph!" A tall, young man with blond hair made a step toward Connecticut. "You think her name is funny?"

"And you-"

"I'm Alberta."

"Oh! You're the Texas of-"

"I'm not Texas! Nor am I a nobody like you."

Connecticut gasped in offense. "A nobody? Me?"

"Isn't he Vermont?" Saskatchewan whispered.

"I thought he's New York. The city I think..."

"I'm neither! I'm Connecticut!"

"Connecticut? That's a state?" Alberta gave him a weird look.

He huffed. "Yes, I'm indeed a state! See!" He grabbed a map of the United States out of nowhere, angrily pointing to his home.

"Gosh, it's so tiny," Quebec giggled, looking at where he's pointing.

Connecticut blushed. "W-Well, my large sums of money make up for it."

British Columbia looked all over the map. "Why are there so many states?"

Ontario came over to look at the map. "All I know is California, Texas, New York, and that's it. The rest are nobodies."

"Who you calling a nobody, beaver-humping mountie!" Michigan growled.

"U-Um, you guys," Minnesota's soft voice grabbed everyone's attention. "I hate to break up our nice conversations, but, now that we're all here, shouldn't we start our game of hockey?"

Everyone blinked their eyes.

"... Your kind friend has a point," Quebec admitted. "Come, my fellow Canadians. Let's equip our gear and show these dumb American what we're made of. I would hate to lose to them in the sport I invented and perfected in."

The Canadian Provinces began walking over to their side of the pond.

Thinking it was safe, Wisconsin released Michigan, allowing her to walk freely once again.

"You cowards! This isn't over!" she called. She grabbed a handful of snow, shaped it into a snowball, and threw it at Ontario's head.

The snowball hit its mark.

Ontario turned and glared at the Americans. "Eh! Who did that?"

Michigan pointed to New York.

New York gave her a mean look. "Seriously- oof! Hey! I didn't throw that!" he yelled at Ontario who prepared another snowball in hand.

"I know. But it felt nice," he laughed.

New York gritted his teeth. "You know what's also nice?" He kneeled down and formed a snowball. "This!" He threw it at the Canadian. 

Quebec sighed. "You two are so immat-" The snowball hit her face. She fumed. "Cela signifie guerre (This means war)!" she shouted. She picked up some snow, packed it into a ball, and threw it at the American states.

Her snowball directly hit Minnesota in the face.

Wisconsin gasped. "How dare you hit Minnie!" She proceeded to make a snowball as well.

Quebec looked at the rest of the provinces. "Don't just stand there. Attack them!"

"Eh? I thought we were supposed to play a game of hockey?" British Columbia groaned.

"Not until they pay for throwing that snowball at my face. Now, attaque!" She launched another snowball at the state; this one managed to hit Massachusetts on the shoulder.

"It's the War of 1812 all over again!" He and Connecticut joined the brawl.

Saskatchewan sighed. "I just wanted to play some hockey..."

Both sides ended up getting into a snowball fight that lasted the entire day. Their hockey match ended up getting delayed to next month.

☆☆☆☆☆

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ It's well-known Canada and the United States have a rivalry that goes way back. This rivalry is notably seen in winter sports, particularly hockey (or ice hockey to those outside North America).
> 
> \- Some of the Canadian Provinces and American States I included in this episode are regions where hockey is the most popular.


	11. Deep-Fried Butter

~

"Fried Jesus! This is an emergency!" Texas ran up to a man in his forties.

Fried Jesus in all his glowing, greasy glory appeared before the troubled Texan. "Howdy, Tex! What do ya want for me to fry up this time?"

"Thanks for the offer, but this isn't for me. This is for America."

"Mr. America? He's here?!"

"Sí (Yes)! We need to come up with something new and impress him before he gets here."

"Ah! I see." Fried Jesus went back behind his frying station. He popped back up with a fried treat on a plate. "How about deep-fried peanut butter and jelly sandwiches?"

She shook her head. "He already had that four years ago."

"How about deep-fried pineapple rings with frozen whipped cream?" he offered another plate.

"Already had that."

"Deep-fried Coca-Cola?"

"That, too."

"Deep-fried cookie dough?"

"Come on, Fried Jesus! There has to be something he hasn't tried yet." She went into the back of the stand and rummaged through a steel fridge. "How about deep-fried ketchup?"

"Interesting, but I don't think I have the time to test that out."

"Well..." She rummaged through the fridge. "How about deep-fried fudge?"

"Don't they sell those at regular food stands?"

"Crap! You're right! What was I thinking?" She tossed more ingredients out the fridge. "Eggs, flour, milk, butter-"

"Hang on a minute, Tex!" She stopped herself from throwing the stick of butter over her shoulder. "I think you're onto something."

"Really?"

"Hand me that brick of butter."

~ Minutes later... ~

While America ate his buttery treat with the biggest smile on his face, Texas and Fried Jesus gave each other high fives.

"We did it, Fried Jesus. We made America happy," she cried tears of joy.

☆☆☆☆☆

"Nice going, Tex. You made America fat again," California made a snarky remark.

"It's the least I could do," the Texan wasn't the least ashamed for her actions.

"That's not a compliment! Do you have any idea the lengths I had to go through to get America to lose all that weight?"

"I bet he lose a lot of that weight if he dropped you into the ocean."

She fumed, "I told everyone not to tempt America with these fatty foods. And because of you, all that progress he was making is gone!"

"At least he's happy."

"For now! Wait until he gets on a scale. He's going to eat gallons of chocolate ice cream and cry for weeks no thanks to you."

"Are you sure you're not confusing him with you?"

Her eye twitched in annoyance. "I'm about to rip that stupid hat off your head and tear it in half."

"Those are fighting words, blondie."

She sighed. "At least tell me how in the world he gain all that weight back in a single day."

"It's easy!" Tex disappeared for a brief moment before coming back with a deep-fried confection on a stick.

"Of course. Why am I not surprised."

"It's so fucking good. You should try it." She handed her the stick.

She scrunched up her nose. "What in hell is that?"

"It's deep-fried butter!"

"Deep. Fried. Butter. You're basically serving me a death sentence."

She shrugged. "Your loss." She took a giant bite out the deep-fried buttery goodness. "Mmm... Butter..."

She rolled her eyes. "You're such a pig."

"Better a pig than a skeleton." She took another mouthful of deep-fried butter. "You know," she spoke while eating, "America wouldn't have strayed from his diet if you cut him some slack. He deserves a treat once in a while."

"Not until he loses all that weight," she stubbornly insisted. "He needs to learn how to moderate his intake of foods and exercise on a daily basis. Any interruption to this plan will prevent him from losing that fat. As such, I'm going to have to make adjustments to his diet."

"God. That's cold..."

She crossed her arms. "I care for him, too, you know."

"If so, you're doing a shitty job showing it." She took another bite of her buttery treat. "That look on America's face when he ate that deep-fried butter was something I would never forget. It was like seeing a kid eat his first candy bar. It was so wholesome, it made me cry tears of joy."

Cali's eyes glanced away from her sister's. She left her sister's house without saying another word to her.

~ Hetalia... ~

"Here you go, America! Enjoy!" California smiled.

America stared at the tiny bowl of grilled chicken salad that was presented to him. "Thanks!" He grinned, yet he didn't sound all that happy.

While clueless in most situations, she could see he was faking his enthusiasm. "What's wrong?"

America blinked his eyes. "O-Oh no! I'm fine. Thank you for this salad. It's my favorite." His smile grew unnaturally wider.

She scowled. "Dude, don't lie to me."

He sighed, and his smile disappeared. "Sorry, Cali. I'm honestly getting sick and tired of salad lunches."

"Then, how about broccoli and pasta in Alfredo sauce to shake things up a bit?"

"Can I have a hamburger instead?"

"Not until you're at a healthy weight."

He groaned, "Why is dieting so hard? So unfair..."

"You wanna lose weight, don't you?"

"Of course I do! I don't want the countries calling me fat at the next world conference."

"Then take your diet seriously."

"I'm trying!" he whimpered. "I can't help myself whenever I see deep-fried food. I know it's bad for me, but it's so good. That deep-fried butter Tex gave me was so yummy. I wish I could eat one again..." Drops of drool escaped from the corners of his mouth.

Cali cursed at Tex from under her breath. "How could you eat deep-fried butter? Sounds so... so..."

"Have you tried it?" he asked.

"Why would I try it?"

"I know you like fatty foods, too. Maybe not as much as Tex, but I know you do, too."

"That was past Cali. Today's Cali is more aware of her weight and need to stay healthy."

"I thought you lost weight to fit into a pair of skinny jeans."

She blushed. "T-That's not the point! The point is, California has moved on from fatty foods. Since those dark times, she has become a happier and healthier person. With a good diet and some exercise, you can become happy and healthy like yours truly!" She made a fabulous pose.

He frowned. "You're missing out."

She slouched and groaned. "How am I missing out on a deep-fried heart attack?"

"I'm not saying we should eat fatty foods all the time. I'm saying we should treat ourselves on occasion. Like, when was the last time you had a piece of cake?"

Her eyes widened. "... I honestly don't know..."

She tried to remember at any moment in time the taste of a frosted cake. Birthday parties? No, she always passed on cake in concern to her diet. Holiday parties? No, she always passed on them, even on cupcakes, with the excuse of being on a diet. DYI? No, she usually gave away anything sweet to her neighbors since she was on a diet; she mainly made them for views on YouTube.

After pondering on the question for a long time, she finally remembered having a slice of cake many years ago, way before she started on a diet. That was when she had In-N-Out every two days, the worst decision in her life. Although, In-N-Out was so freakin' good. Like, their burgers were hella amazeballs! In fact, when was the last time she had a burger at In-N-Out?

"... America. I'm going to go get us some In-N-Out burgers!" she yelled with rekindled passion.

America's eyes sparkled. "Really? Awesome! Let's go-"

"But tomorrow," she pointed a finger at him with serious eyes, "we need to work super hard to lose that weight!"

He smirked. "Fine by me!"

Together, both nation and state continued to work out and diet while also treating themselves to a burger on occasion.

~ Hetalia! ~

'I wonder how America is doing. Going through Cali's exercise regime sounds like torture. If I were him, I would've given up by now,' Texas thought to herself as she arrived at California's house.

She knocked, and America answered the door.

"Hey! What's up, Tex!" He grinned.

She made a casual wave. "Howdy, dude! I'm surprised you're still alive after eating salads every day."

"I mean, it wasn't that bad. Like, look at me." He showed off his toned body.

"Wow..."

"I know, right? At first, I thought I was gaining weight. But as Cali pointed out, I was actually gaining muscle. I'm healthy now, so I can head back East and show everyone I'm not a useless fatass."

She nodded. "Good for you."

"Tex, my eyes are up here."

Her face turned red like her politics. "I-I wasn't staring! I-I mean, you told me to look, so..." She turned her face away from him.

He laughed. "I didn't think you would show up at Cali's house."

"Well, I thought you were miserable eating grass every day, so I thought I take you out to a state fair or a restaurant behind Cali's back."

"Like, a date?"

"I-It's not a date! Not a date, I tell you! Not a date!" She furiously shook her head. "I'm just worried of you becoming a vegetarian. If that happened, you wouldn't be able to enjoy my Texas-sized steaks or any of my delicious cooking ever again..."

"Aw, Tex." America softly smiled. "Maybe we can go celebrate my weight loss some other day. Right now, Cali and I are trying some deep-fried butter and chocolate-covered bacon. It's pretty good."

"Wait a minute. Cali... eating deep-fried butter...? What in tarnation are you two on?"

"Come inside and have a look if you don't believe me."

America led her inside. When they got to the kitchen, Tex stood in disbelief, seeing Cali gobble down a stick of deep-fried butter and a piece of chocolate-covered bacon at the island counter. The Californian froze like a deer in the headlights when she saw Texas gaping in disbelief.

'Out of all the people to show up,' Cali thought with horrified eyes, 'why is that stupid Texan here?' Her eyes blinked when the camera light flickered off Tex's phone. She dropped her stick of deep-fried butter like a brick.

"You got exposed, bitch!" Tex hollered and laughed.

"I swear to god! You better not post that on Twitter!"

"And pass up on this chance to humiliate your lying ass!"

Cali charged at her. "Delete that photo! Delete it! Delete it!"

"Hey! Give me back my phone!" Tex tackled her.

A catfight ensued. None the wiser, America let the sisters settle their fight while he ate his deep-fried butter and chocolate-covered bacon in peace.

☆☆☆☆☆

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ In "Hetalia World☆Stars", America is featured eating deep-fried butter. While it's common knowledge America, both the character and country, loves fatty foods, it can come to a surprise for some to know deep-fried butter is a thing. Indeed, deep-fried butter exists. Some may be disgusted by the thought of anyone eating a doughy, buttery glob with no calorie which is understandable. I haven't tried one, but I'm optimistic, and I won't mind trying one out of curiosity. Without a doubt, such a treat must be eaten sparingly.
> 
> \+ Compared to other deep-fried foods, deep-fried butter in particular was a recent invention in America (not be confused with fried butter). It was first invented by Abel Gonzalez Jr. aka "Fried Jesus" in Dallas, Texas. He sold these treats at the Texas State Fair and was awarded a prize for his creativity. Since then, his fame grew and so did deep-fried butter, becoming more common at other state fairs and restaurants.
> 
> \- Some state fairs put their own spin on the buttery confection. The Iowa State Fair for example dips its frozen butter in a honey-and-cinnamon flavored batter before it is given a sugary glaze after it's done cooking. At the Orange County Fair in California, deep-fried butter is paired with chocolate-covered bacon, nicknamed the "coronary combo". Similar treats are also served in Canada and the United Kingdom in case anyone wants to try this treat for themselves.


	12. The Twelve Days of Fruitcake

~

_Knock! Knock! Knock!_

America opens the door. He smiles seeing the Original Thirteen at his doorstep.

As per tradition, most of the Original Thirteen (Rhode Island refuses to participate because he's a mopey dick) go Christmas carolling at every states' house, including America's. How they do this is thanks to Virginia knowing a bit of magic to help get them to their destination. They also do it in the spirit of the holidays. All dressed in red, white, and green, they hold their songbooks, ready to sing merry songs of jolly. And the first one to hear them sing is America himself.

Delaware steps forward. He takes a deep breath before beginning the song in a soft, glowing tone. "On the first day of Christmas my country gave to me, an eagle in an oak tree~"

Pennsylvania joins him. "On the second day of Christmas my country gave to me, two apple pies and an eagle in an oak tree~"

New Jersey joins them. "On the third day of Christmas my country gave to me, three large Cokes, two apple pies, and an eagle in an oak tree~"

Georgia joins them. "On the fourth day of Christmas my country gave to me, four hamburgers, three large Cokes, two apple pies, and an eagle in an oak tree~"

Connecticut joins them. "On the fifth day of Christmas my country gave to me, five Christmas cakes, four hamburgers, three large Cokes, two apple pies, and an eagle in an oak tree~"

Massachusetts joins them. "On the sixth day of Christmas my country gave to me, six cookies baking, five Christmas cakes, four hamburgers, three large Cokes, two apple pies, and an eagle in an oak tree~"

Maryland joins them. "On the seventh day of Christmas my country gave to me, seven flags a-waving, six cookies baking, five Christmas cakes, four hamburgers, three large Cokes, two apples pies, and an eagle in an oak tree~"

South Carolina joins them. "On the eighth day of Christmas my country gave to me, eight soldiers marching, seven flags a-waving, six cookies baking, five Christmas cakes, four hamburgers, three large Cokes, two apple pies, and an eagle in an oak tree~"

New Hampshire joins them. "On the ninth day of Christmas my country gave to me, nine rockets launching, eight soldiers marching, seven flags a-waving, six cookies baking, five Christmas cakes, four hamburgers, three large Cokes, two apple pies, and an eagle in an oak tree~"

Virginia joins them. "On the tenth day of Christmas my country gave to me, ten rednecks shouting, nine rockets launching, eight soldiers marching, seven flags a-waving, six cookies baking, five Christmas cakes, four hamburgers, three large Cokes, two apples pies, and an eagle in an oak tree~"

New York joins them. "On the eleventh day of Christmas my country gave to me, eleven Yanks a-cheering, ten rednecks shouting, nine rockets launching, eight soldiers marching, seven flags a-waving, six cookies baking, five Christmas cakes, four hamburgers, three large Cokes, two apple pies, and an eagle in an oak tree~"

North Carolina joins them. "On the twelfth day of Christmas my country gave to me, twelve dudes ice skating, eleven Yanks a-cheering, ten rednecks shouting, nine rockets launching, eight soldiers marching, seven flags a-waving, six cookies baking, five Christmas cakes, four hamburgers, three large Cokes, two apple pies, and an eagle in an oak tree~"

America loudly applauds after they sing their song.

☆☆☆☆☆

Somewhere deep in England's cynical heart, he decides in the spirit of Christmas to send gifts to his former colonies.

"Be grateful, you twat. From, the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland," New Jersey reads the note that come with the gift. He looks back at the delivered present in disgust.

Most people like fruit. Most people like cake. But fruit and cake together, only old people and snarky Brits without taste buds can appreciate this disgusting mixture of batter and raisin poop that is fruitcake.

Fruitcake, the epitome of a Christmas joke for seventy years straight. The kind of cheap gift given for free, but no one won't touch with a candy cane. Prisoners refuse to eat this horrid dish. Not even the homeless can eat it without giving you a disgusted look of mixed thanks and fuck yous. It doesn't matter if there's extra sugar added into that piece of poop. It doesn't matter if there's an extra frosting on top of that pile of shit. Heck, not even gallons of alcohol can make anyone forget what they're eating is fecal matter. It's still a festive turd that probably outlived your grandmother. It may possibly outlive you, too! When it does, it'll creep out from the locked cabinet and take a dump on your gravestone just because you refuse to give it a home in your stomach.

Is this a genuine gift or a sick joke? Either answer is enough for Jersey to send this Frankenstein back to its master. But that'll mean spending money, placing value on this worthless piece of trash. Just as he's about to chuck the fruitcake out the window, a sudden phone call stops him from doing the deed.

"You want my fruitcake?" Jersey makes a weird face.

On the other side of America, Colorado is talking on the phone while preparing boxes full of fruitcake. "I'm collecting them for this awesome party. It's going to be lit," he chuckles.

"Are you high?"

He rolls his eyes. "Why do people assume I'm always high?"

"I don't recall fruitcake being lit as fuck. If anything, it's a meme. Something you can't take seriously."

"Damn. That's cold, man."

"It's the truth. Who in the world likes fruitcake? Certainly not you. So, why in the world are you collecting them?"

"I already told you. It's for a party. In a way, I'm doing this country a good service. You should come and see for yourself."

"A fruitcake party sounds lame."

"It's not as lame as you think. Like, you should see the cannon!"

His ears perk up. "Cannon? What cannon?"

~ Hetalia! ~

"FIRE!"

A man pulls the string. A loud boom echoes out from the cannon, launching a brown brick into the bright blue sky. The crowd goes wild as they watch the fruitcake disappear over the horizon.

New Jersey awes at the sight. "You're a special kind of hero. The one we need, but we absolutely don't deserve."

Colorado chuckles. "Thanks! Got this idea while getting high and eating fruitcake."

"Why were you eating fruitcake?"

"I thought it was a gingerbread cake."

As they continues to watch fruitcakes get thrown into the stratosphere, New Jersey gets a bright idea.

"Can I possibly borrow that cannon for a bit?"

Colorado tilts his head. "Sure. Why?"

"I just want to save some money. That's all."

~ Hetalia! ~

"Brownie, Pixie, what jolly folks~ Unicorn, all of them, my friends~" England sings to himself as he tidies his house for Sealand's visit during the holidays.

While dusting his window, he sees what appears to be a meteorite. He doesn't have enough time to react before the foot-size, rock-hard brick breaks through the glass and hits him on the head. He curses and stumbles backwards, holding the lump on his forehead.

"What in the world wrecked my window?" He looks down at the culprit.

To his surprise, it's a burnt fruitcake. He picks up the fruitcake and notices a note underneath it. He tears the note off and reads it.

_Merry Shitmas, you limey bastard! Here's your worst mistake back! Enjoy!_

_From, New Jersey_

England crumples up the note. "That devil child! I worked really hard to make that fruitcake," he huffs upset. "I must remind myself to put a curse on him later. That ungrateful prick should be grateful I even gave him a gift. He didn't even bother to try it."

Even though New Jersey got cursed later that day, it was worth breaking England's window and getting rid of the cursed dessert in his opinion.

☆☆☆☆☆

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ This episode was written and updated around the end of 2018. I decided to parody/Americanize the Twelve Days of Christmas song for fun, so hopefully anyone reading it had fun singing along to it.
> 
> \+ Fruitcake is a dessert that was first created during the days of Ancient Rome. It has since been created worldwide with variations per country. Like wine, fruitcake can be preserved and be eaten years later; some get to be over a hundred years old while still being edible (although it probably doesn't taste that good)!
> 
> \- In the United States, fruitcake is often ridiculed as a lame dessert. Supposedly the fruitcake joke began with Johnny Carson, a night show host, who joked there was only one fruitcake in the world, and it was passed on from family to family since no one wanted it. Since his death, fruitcake continues to be vilified in various media.
> 
> \+ In 1995, Manitou Springs, Colorado began hosting the Great Fruitcake Toss. The event involved fruitcake activities such as hand-tossing fruitcakes and using machines to launch recycled fruitcakes as far as the eye can see. They also serve good fruitcakes as well. The event actually takes place in January, but I've made the decision to mention it for its festive theme.


	13. Egg Roll Squirrel 2019

~

On January 3, 2019, a short video of a squirrel munching down on a whole egg roll in New York City was posted on Twitter, and it had since went viral. Here were some comments to that post:

**California@goldengurl31**

You forgot the sauce 

**New York@NYempire11**

Another true New Yorker

**Missouri@missery247**

How in the world did it get a perfectly good eggroll??

**Arkansas@arkvark25**

_Replying @missery247_

the bigger question is how did it carry that eggroll up that tree 🤔

**North Carolina@tarheeler12**

if that egg roll was a krispy kreme donut he would absolutely be my spirit animal

**Kansas@sunflowerheart**

he's so cute!!! 😻😻😻

**Utah@bee_elevated**

_Replying @sunflowerheart_

cute, but i'm concerned how overweight they are...

**West Virginia@mr_mothman**

thats the fatest quirrel ive ever seen! i bet he wood make good squirrel stew.

**New Jersey@NJd3vil**

Looks like Pizza Rat has been upstaged by Eggroll Squirrel.

**Connecticut@Hale_Yale**

_Replying @NJd3vil_

Pizza Rat, Eggroll Squirrel... Sounds like a potential superhero movie.

**Maine@lobstah_mainiac**

_Replying @NJd3vil @Hale_Yale_

Pizza Rat - pizza shield

Eggroll Squirrel - egg roll hammer

Bagel Bat - bagel suit

Cheesecake Coyote - gets angry without its cheesecake

I call them: the Scavengers.

**Illinois@coolguychicago**

_Replying @lobstah_mainiac_

don't forget Waldorf Widow and Hot Dog Hawk! they count, too.

**Oregon@beautiful_oregon**

_Replying @lobstah_maniac @coolguychicago_

Scavengers fanart is currently in the works

**Washington@washofthewest**

that squirrel should come to my home. the egg rolls here are way better

**Idaho@potatogod**

I bet this is all a conspiracy to distract us from the government shutdown...

**District of Columbia@official_DC**

_Replying @potatogod_

Not everything is a conspiracy theory.

**Montana@Sky_Treasurer**

_Replying @official_DC_

so, when's the shutdown going to be over...?

**Wyoming@Sheriff_Warren**

_Replying @official_DC_

When can I open the national parks again? It has nearly been three weeks...

**Nevada@silversin**

_Replying @official_DC_

I still haven't got paid yet... #trumpshutdown

**America@hamburgerhero1**

I wish China didn't block Twitter. I really wanted to send him this vid...

"Great..." Washington D.C. grumbles to herself as she puts away her phone, "2019 is off to a wonderful start..." She continues to work in midst of a government shutdown.

☆☆☆☆☆

"Another!" Washington D.C. slides the bartender her empty glass.

The bartender is about to cut her off until he sees the cold darkness in her sleepless eyes. He shuts his mouth and makes her eighty rickey. While waiting for her cure to be stirred up, the capital occupies her mouth with spoonfuls of bean soup. Maryland stares at her in disbelief while sitting on a bar stool next to her. Her glass of vodka seems tame by comparison.

"... Did you see that video of that squirrel eating an egg roll on Twitter?" Maryland tries to change the subject.

It doesn't work.

D.C. goes off on a rant, another cure to her ever-depressing existence. "... You know, I don't usually play favorites, but Obama..." She grabs the rickey from the bartender's hand and chugs half of it down her throat. "Obama and I played basketball! It was a good change of pace from golf, you know. I didn't have to wait on some seventy year old bastard to swing his club, you know. I can just dribble the ball. I can just... shoot it. Like, you know?"

"... I didn't know you play basketball," she mumbles.

She scoffs, "I don't. He asked if I wanted to shoot some hoops, and it was fun, you know..." She sighs. "I'm going to drink myself to death. Tell everyone to go fuck themselves once my death has been confirmed by the morgue." D.C. is about to finish off her drink when Maryland grabs her wrist. She glares at her.

Maryland frowns. "You can do this. You've been through over forty presidents. In two more years, he'll be gone."

"Six more if he's re-elected

"I doubt he'll run again."

"I doubt he would win an election at all!" she raises her voice in anger. "But noooooo! I was wrong! I was completely wrong! I underestimated the people of this GREAT nation! Apparently, this is the leader they want! This... This... Uuaagh!" She guzzles down the rest of her rickey.

"... Technically, he won with the electoral vote; he didn't win the popular vote," she corrects her. "If you have to blame someone, blame the Founding Fathers."

D.C. bangs her head on the counter. "Ugh... I desire to be George Washington. I want to retire and take up farming. Maybe that's why Iowa is so calm all the time. Boring, but at least he doesn't get a lot of hate..."

The bartender voluntarily refills her glass.

Maryland pats her on the shoulder. "You'll get through this."

She sighs, "I know I will." She lifts her head off the counter. "This shutdown is going to end. That, I know. My only concern are the hardworking people not getting paid, the landmarks not being maintained, and the progress that could've been made today or yesterday... All for some wall I don't even know is going make a difference."

She softly smiles. "You're not the only one facing these turbulent times. If you need help, don't be afraid to ask me."

D.C. softly smiles back. "Thank you."

Maryland lifts her glass. "To 2019."

She lifts her glass. "To 2019."

They clink their glasses, finishing their last drink for the evening.

☆☆☆☆☆

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ In January 2019, a viral video showed a squirrel in New York City munching on a egg roll. Most of the comments to the original Twitter post were fairly positive although some shook their heads seeing the squirrel eat the egg roll without some kind of sauce to go with it.
> 
> \- I thought about including my 50 States OCs' human names to their Twitter handles, but I decided not to considering I vowed not to use their human names in this book. But realistically, they would've listed their human names in their Twitter accounts.
> 
> \+ This episode was originally published on January 9, 2019 in midst of the U.S. federal government shutdown. The shutdown began near the end of December, resulting in the closure of many federal areas as well as leaving many federal workers without pay. The reason the shutdown had yet to end was due to conflict between Democratic members of Congress and President Trump over funds for a wall along the Mexico-United States border. For this episode, I mainly stuck to writing how much this government shutdown was affecting the country, especially Washington D.C.


	14. Billboards and BOTUS

~

"Aw, shit. How did he get out of his cage?" Washington D.C. grumbles while searching underneath the couch.

Today, the Capital of the World is taking care of BOTUS: the Bunny of the United States. I mean, it's better than organizing bills. Still, it doesn't help she's not getting paid to pet-sit this famous bunny. Stupid shutdown...

"The Vice President is going to kill me," D.C. groans, unable to locate the rebellious rabbit so far.

She looks around the White House. She searches the bushes of the garden. She scans the emerald green yard. She asks for the help of White House staff who have yet to inform her of the bunny's location. She checks the kitchen, the dining room, the many rooms throughout the giant, white building... No luck so far until she opens the door to an ordinary room.

She finds Oregon and Washington sitting on the floor. Oregon is holding a picture book while Washington holds a pair of fluffy bunnies. D.C. recognizes both bunnies. One of them is Washington's beige rabbit named Wally. The other is BOTUS: Marlon Bundo.

The capital huffs. "White House security. Call off the search. I found BOTUS," she speaks into a walkie-talkie before turning her attention to the Pacific Northwest. "You assholes. I've been looking for that bunny for hours."

Oregon cocks her head. "You were?"

"Yes, I was! I'm taking care of BOTUS until the Pences return home." She's about to pick up the bunny when Wash defensively shields Marlon Bundo away from her.

"Oh, come on! Marlon Bundo loves Wally. Don't be the stink bug who separates them."

She scowls. "I'm not going to pet-sit two bunnies."

"Then, let us do it. We have nothing else to do for today."

"You can't. Think what the Vice President will do when he sees BOTUS playing with Wally."

"Uh-huh." They smirk.

She's about to scold them when she thinks about what she said for a second. "... I expect BOTUS back by seven," she says before leaving the room.

Oregon and Washington chuckle as they pick up from where they left off. "Now, where were we? Ah, yes. After breakfast I hopped to the garden..." Oregon continues reading the book out loud while Washington, Wally, and Marlon Bundo listen to the nice children's story being presented to them.

☆☆☆☆☆

**March 2016 ~ Somewhere in Indiana**

"It has been a while since we went on a road trip." Illinois gazes out the window, watching the countryside pass by while Indiana drives her truck down the road toward the beach.

And yes, there are beaches in Indiana.

As they're driving down the road, Illinois sees a billboard in the distance. It says: Indiana Deserves Better... PENCE MUST GO! SupportPenceMustGo.org.

"How do you put up with him?" he asks out of the blue.

She gives him a weird glance. "The same way I've put up with all my bosses." She continues driving.

They pass by another billboard. It says: Not Good for Indiana — PENCE MUST GO!

He frowns. "You seriously need to choose better bosses."

She shrugs. "At least he's not like Kansas's boss. She had to sell sex toys because of her boss's tax cuts." She sighs. "Can we stop talking about politics?"

"Sure. Politics is already bad enough as it is. I can't imagine it getting worse than that."

He looks out the window again. Once again, he's reading more billboards, most of which avoid politics. However, that doesn't mean these billboards are normal. Some of the signs he found the most interesting include: a family looking for a kidney donor, a cynical advertisement for beer over therapy, and a website called ' **my** empty **sex** life.com'.

'Is it that easy to get a billboard these days?' he wonders.

He continues reading billboards. Another billboard that catches his eye reads: Jesus Said - I am the WAY, the TRUTH, and the LIFE; no man cometh unto the FATHER, but by me.

Behind that billboard is another sign that says: Beyond Reasonable Doubt — JESUS IS ALIVE! 855-FOR-TRUTH.

"They really love Jesus around here," he mutters

"Yeah. Jesus is pretty cool," says Indiana, unfazed by the next sign that says:  **JESUS IS REAL**.

"They really love Jesus..." He frowns.

Against curiosity, he decides to keep his questions and comments to himself. He continues reading billboards to distract himself from boredom although it's difficult to tell if these billboards are trying to be funny or not. Like, look at that billboard:  **HELL IS REAL**. Good one, right...? He forces a nervous chuckle, trying to play along to the dark humor behind the 'joke'.

Unfortunately, his chuckle is cut short when he sees the next billboard: WORSHIP AT OUR CHURCH OR  **BURN FOREVER**  — First Church of God's Perfect Love.

By the way, it's important to note the 'BURN FOREVER' part stood out from the pitch black background with his hellfire font. It almost looks satanic in a way. Although, there's a bit of irony in that sign regarding that sign. For sign promoting 'First Church of God's Perfect Love', it sure likes to condemn anyone not attending its church. Nevertheless, Illinois admits he's a bit intimidated by the sign, wondering the kind of people behind this dark advertisement.

He turns to Indiana for her reaction, only to be disappointed to see her not even blink at these infernal signs. Rather than bother her, he decides to keep all comments to himself.

The continue to pass by more billboards along the way:

Attention: Lunatic Atheists & their Lawyers —  **Anti-God is Anti-American** — **Anti-American is Treason** — **Traitors lead to Civil War.**

WARNING — If you continue to sin  **THERE IS NO FORGIVENESS**. If you are not forgiven  **THERE IS NO SALVATION**. www.KNOW YOU ARE SAVED.com.

 **YOU CAN'T HOLD HANDS WITH GOD WHEN YOU'RE MASTURBATING**.

"What the..." He shakes his head and gives Indiana a disgusted look. "You aren't bothered by all of this?"

She shakes her head while keeping her eyes on the road. "Nope. You get used to it after a while."

His left eye twitches in annoyance. "Do you have any normal billboards that don't involve political slandering or religious fear mongering?"

"Yeah. That one over there." She points to a billboard that says: ILLINOYED by higher taxes? Come To Indiana - A State that Works.

He scowls. "I... I expected this kind of thing from Wisconsin..."

☆☆☆☆☆

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ Marlon Bundo is a famous bunny belonging to the family of Mike Pence, the 48th Vice President of the United States of America. In 2018, the Pence family wrote, illustrated, and published a children's book called, "Marlon Bundo's A Day in the Life of the Vice President". The book depicts the fictional daily life of Marlon Brando in the White House. Proceeds from the book went to Tracy's Kids, an art therapy program, and The A21 Campaign, a nonprofit organization dedicated to ending human trafficking.
> 
> \- That same year, "Last Week Tonight with John Oliver", a late-night, satirical talk-show, released a parody of the children's book called, "A Day in the Life of Marlon Bundo". It was written by Jill Twiss, a writer of the show. The children's book features Marlon Bundo's daily life with a twist: Marlon Bundo falls in love with a male bunny named Wesley. Besides teaching kids it's okay to be different, the book also pokes fun at Pence's homophobic stance. Proceeds of the book were sent to The Trevor Project, a nonprofit organization dedicated to preventing suicides among LGBT youth, and AIDS United, a nonprofit organization dedicated to ending the AIDS epidemic in America.
> 
> \+ Indiana is one of various states to have large, religious populations who often express their political and religious ideals on billboards across the state. Some of these billboards involve the promotion of Christianity although there have been a few signs that emphasize condemnation towards anyone who isn't a follower of Christ. So, it isn't surprising to Hoosiers whenever a billboard in Indiana draws controversial attention. Most tend to ignore these messages, so please do not think all Hoosiers are extremists.


	15. Hash Bash 420

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Cannabis usage is shown in this episode. By no means does this episode encourage individuals to smoke cannabis or force them to support its legalization. Either way, please don't start a political dumpster fire regarding marijuana legalization for those planning to comment on the episode. You've been warned.

~

"Um... Colorado. Where are you taking me?" Vermont meekly spoke while Colorado drove down the highway in the middle of the night.

Colorado chuckled. "Relax, dude. I'm not going to do anything weird to you."

He didn't look convinced. "You say that, yet we're in the middle of some kind of horror movie cliché." He nervously glanced out the dark window.

"If it helps, I have some stash in the glove compartment."

He scowled. "Just because it's legal in my home now doesn't mean I smoke it."

He shrugged. "Whatever. You're still a part of the 420 Club."

"420 Club?"

"Yeah. You're the ninth member. As per tradition, I'm giving you a plaque that recognizes you as a part of our squad."

Vermont gave him a strange look. "Couldn't you shipped it to me? You could've also handed the plaque to me in person back at the house. Also, you hadn't told me where we're going yet."

"Chill with the questions, man. Anyway, we're here."

"We are?" Vermont looked out the window as Colorado parked the track along the side of the road. He frowned. "There's nothing here. Not even a building in the middle of nowhere."

"You're right." Colorado got out of the truck.

Vermont followed him out of the truck to a large mile marker that stood in front of the car. He gave his friend a disapproving look when he realized the purpose of this unexpected road trip. "Please don't tell me what I think you're doing."

"Correction, what  _we're_  doing."

"We're not going to steal government property."

"It's just a sign. No big deal." He grabbed the mile marker and pulled it out of the ground without a problem.

"It doesn't even say 420 on there! It's 419.99!"

"Close enough." He handed Vermont the 'plaque'. "Congratulations! You're now a proud member of the 420 Club!"

"Gah!" Vermont dropped the heavy sign.

"Oops!" He laughed. "I keep forgetting you're not as strong as me. Let me help you with that."

He blushed. "W-Well, I'm thankful to be a part of the 420 Club, b-but I think you should put the sign back where it came from. I would hate for us to get in trouble."

Colorado placed the sign in the bed of his pickup truck. "Come on, Vermont. It's not like a lot of people go down this road. I'm sure no one is going to notice."

Loud sirens whirled behind them, followed by flashes of red and blue. "Stop right there! This is the police!" yelled the cop.

"Crap! We gotta get out of here!" He and Vermont rushed back in the truck.

"Wha-What?! Are you crazy?! We can't outrun the cops."

"Do you want to get arrested then?"

"Of course not!"

"Then buckle up and hang on tight." Colorado shifted the truck into drive and slammed his foot on the pedal.

The truck zoomed into the dark distance, leaving the cop car in its dust.

☆☆☆☆☆

**April 7, 2018 ~ Ann Arbor, Michigan**

Hash Bash — a wicked party that sounded like it originated in California or Colorado, but it actually started in Michigan. For 47 years in a row, thousands of Michiganders gathered in civil disobedience in support of smoking that herb in the hopes of marijuana becoming legal in the state.

"We did it people!" Michigan shouted to the crowd as she spoke on stage. "This November, register for the ballot and vote in support of legalizing weed!"

The crowd cheered as Michigan walked off the stage with the band playing in the background. She went over to her friends, Illinois, Indiana, and some asshole named "O-lame-o", who were in the crowd when she made her speech.

She laughed, "See you guys. Time does pay off."

Indiana waved a cloud of hemp away from her face. "This isn't really my cup of tea," she muttered.

"Come on, Indy. We can smoke in protest." Illinois offered her a joint he was smoking.

She pushed it away. "I'll pass."

Ohio shook his head at the sight of stoners surrounding them. "Where are the cops?"

"Over there." Michigan pointed across the lawn where a trio of police officers awkwardly stood and watched passerbys smoke that herb.

He frowned. "I remembered drugs being a bad thing."

"And I remembered Toledo being mine until you had to ruin it."

"Toledo was never yours, and you know it."

"It was mine, but you had to threaten my statehood." She and Ohio got up on each others' faces.

"Come on you two." Illinois pushed the rivals apart. "How about we go check out the Monroe Street Fair?"

She huffed, "Fine. We should hurry before the vendors sold out." She marched ahead of her friends to where the vendors were located.

~ Hetalia! ~

Indiana was looking at handmade jewelry when she heard Illinois call her name. She turned around and saw him holding a bunch of leis made out of cannabis. He even wore one himself.

"Where did you get that?" she questioned.

He placed a lei over her head. "I got them from a vendor." He also placed a pair of sunglasses in the shape of cannabis leaves over her eyes. "Aren't you having fun?"

She shrugged. "I'm alright."

"Hm..." He gave her a skeptical look. "Are you really?"

She took off the glasses and sighed. "It's weird how public opinion has changed in the last fifty years. One moment we're told weed will send us to Hell. And the next, weed is everywhere." She looked around the festival grounds. "I feel old."

He chuckled, "No, you're not. It's okay if you're not into weed. It doesn't make you lame or anything bad like that."

"I don't hate weed," she mumbled. "I'm just indifferent to the hype surrounding it." She looked at the pair of shades in her hands. "Weird..."

"By the way, do you know where Ohio and Michigan went? We sorta got separated after I got distracted with the cannabis leis."

They looked around the crowded street, unable to locate their friends in the vicinity.

~ Hetalia? ~

"I thought you pride yourself on being pure," Ohio mocked while watching Michigan gobble down some weed-infused fudge.

She snickered, "Shut your piehole. You're just being a sourpuss because the vendor sold the last fudge to me."

He scowled. "You shouldn't even be eating that. It's illegal, and it's unhealthy, too."

"Civil disobedience, bitch." She took a bite out of her fudge.

He rolled his eyes. "We better find Illinois and Indiana before the pot in those brownies start to kick in."

"Hey! These are not brownies! It's called fudge! Fudge!"

Ohio noticed she was growing red in the cheek. "Great. It's already kicking in..." he groaned.

She giggled, "You know what? I feel like sharing today. I have one piece of fudge left, and I'll let you have it." She waved the piece of pot fudge in front of his face.

"No way! And get that stupid brownie away from me!" He waved her off.

"It's not a brownie! It's fudge! Fudge!" She sneered, "What's the matter, Butteye? Afraid of a little piece of fudge?"

"Quit it! I'm not taking your drugs."

"Pussy."

"Don't call me that."

"Pussy! Pussy! Pussy!" she shouted, getting heads to turn their way.

"Stop calling me that!"

"Not until you try this fudge!" She pushed it in his face.

He muttered curses to himself. "Fine!" He took her fudge and quickly ate it in one hard gulp. "There. Happy now?"

She clapped her hands and cheered, "Awesome! Now give me Toledo!"

"How about I give you two middle fingers instead."

She laughed.

~ Hetalia! ~

Thirty minutes later, Illinois and Indiana found their friends sitting underneath a tree on a grassy lawn. For some reason, Michigan and Ohio had a box of deep dish pepperoni pizza sitting between them. What a weird sight.

"There you guys are. We've been looking for you two everywhere," Indiana panted. "Also, where did you get that box of pizza?"

Michigan shrugged. "Don't know. Nom nom nom." She stuffed her mouth with pizza.

"What do you mean you don't know?"

"Hey, can I have a slice?" Illinois was about grab a slice, but Ohio slapped his hand away. "Hey!"

"My pizza! Mine!" Ohio growled in a Gollum-like voice before releasing a drawn-out chuckle.

Illinois chuckled. "I think... I think Ohio's high."

"He's not the only one." Indiana looked to Michigan who was eating two slices of pizza at the same time. "Michie. I need your keys."

"Why?"

"Because apparently I'm the only responsible adult who can drive us out of here."

Michigan groaned. "Fine." She fetched her car keys out of her denim jacket and threw them to Indiana. "Can you take us to a pizza parlor? I already ate half the box, and I'm still hungry."

"More pizza!" Ohio suddenly shouted as he tossed the empty pizza box in the air.

"I'm starving. I haven't eaten all day..." Illinois whined.

Indiana scowled like a disappointed mother looking down on her troublesome kids. "It's starting to make sense why the Southern states hate weed..."

"Piiiizzzzzaaaaa..." her friends moaned like zombies.

☆☆☆☆☆

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ Mile 420 was one among many mile markers along Interstate 70. Due to 420's association with cannabis culture, the sign was often stolen by stoners, warranting its constant replacement. Eventually, the Colorado Department of Transportation got tired of the thefts. Their solution was replacing the sign with 'Mile 419.99'. Despite their attempts to dissuade potential thieves, the sign continued to be stolen.
> 
> \- Similar signs were also commonly stolen in other states, especially those with some kind of significance. I might cover such signs in another episode or two out of amusement.
> 
> \+ Hash Bash is an annual event in Ann Arbor, Michigan that's usually held on the first weekend of April, featuring civil protest with cannabis consumption. It initially began on April 1, 1972 after the Michigan Supreme Court declared a cannabis conviction to be unconstitutional, creating a temporary period when cannabis consumption wasn't dictated by law. Since then, Hash Bash continues to host speeches, live music, and civil disobedience regarding the legalization of cannabis in the state.
> 
> \- In November 2018, Michigan legalized cannabis for recreational use, becoming the 10th state to do so, thanks to popular support at the polls. Unfortunately for those in Michigan at the time, there are no legal marijuana dispensers within the state until 2020 when businesses get their licenses. Even though weed is now legal in the state, Hash Bash is still being hosted as of January 2019.


	16. South Dakota Pranks the South (Part 1)

~

After spreading some mayo on a slice of bread, South Carolina finishes making her BLT sandwich. She smiles in glee before biting into her perfect lunch. Her mouth slowly chews the bite, slowly and slowly until she stops and spits it out in disgust.

"What the... Why does it taste like that?"

She licks the mayo with her fingers. It tastes sweet. Like... vanilla...

"Pudding?" She has a bewildered look on her face.

She hears a chime coming from her pocket. She pulls out her phone and reads a message from South Dakota. It reads: U just got pranked!!! 😜

"This bitch," she grumbles.

☆☆☆☆☆

"Do do do~ La dada dada~" Mississippi sings to herself as she finishes dusting her house.

The sight of a spotless living room brings a smile to her face. She takes an air freshener from off an end table and proceeds to give the room a pleasant puff of magnolia and cherry blossoms. She breathes in a gulp of air, expecting a flowery fragrance to her room. Instead, she gasps and gags in disconcerted disgust.

"Shrimp? Why do I smell shrimp?" She looks down at the air freshener in her hand. She notices the cover is loose and tears it off, revealing a bait spray in shrimp scent. "Whaaat? I don't understand..."

Her pocket chimes. She pulls out her phone and reads the text message on screen: Love the new shrimp smell? 🦐

Missy whimpers. "No! Not in the slightest..."

~ Hetalia... ~

"What the Hell?! Who did this to my truck?!" Alabama howls in anger.

The entire exterior of his red truck is covered in damp cotton balls, thousands of them stick to the vehicle thanks to the freezing weather. He hears a honk and turns his head around. South Dakota is sitting in her car along the street, laughing her head off while filming his entire reaction on her phone. She manages to get away before he can fetch his gun.

"Get back here, you coward!" He shakes his fist at her.

~ Hetalia! ~

Florida yawns while grabbing a jug of orange juice out of the fridge. Too lazy to get a clean glass, she doesn't hesitate to drink straight out of the jug. She takes a large gulp. Immediately, she realizes something is off about her juice. Her cheeks puff up, and she rushes to the kitchen sink, barfing out a Kraft Dinner mixture. The watery cheddar taste is still her mouth after constant spitting. It takes her a couple of minutes to recover from this prank.

"Heheh... Hahaha!" She wipes her eyes. "Aw, man. That was a good prank. I didn't even see that coming."

Hiding behind a wall with a phone in hand, South Dakota gapes in surprise at the Floridan's unfazed laughter. "That... Why am I not surprised..."

~ Hetalia? ~

Feeling rather thirsty, Georgia decides to get herself a drink. She takes a two liter bottle of Coca-Cola from out the fridge and pours herself a glass. Her nose twitches at the smell of something... off about the cola. She brings the rim of the glass close to her nose. She makes a weird face before setting the glass down on the counter.

"Yeah... I think I'm going to pour myself some sweet tea instead." She pours the strange drink down the sink.

Unaware to the Georgian, South Dakota is hiding from her sight, groaning to another failure. "Darn it. I thought she would fall for my soy sauce and sprite prank..." she mutters in disappointment.

~ Hetalia... ~

After a warm day at work, Louisiana comes back to her apartment in a disheveled mess. She flips on the switch to turn on the fan, hoping to cool herself off. Instead, she's greeted to snow all over living room. She makes a dramatic gasp. She quickly flips the fan off, but it's too late. Her living room is completely covered in white confetti.

South Dakota pops out of nowhere with a phone in hand. "Hahaha! You just got pranked, bro- AAaah! Owowowow!"

Louisiana pulls her by the ear. "Give me a good reason why I shouldn't butcher you and feed your remains to the alligators."

"I-It's only a prank. It's s-supposed to be funny."

"Does it looking like I'm laughing?"

She frantically shakes her head. "N-No! I s-swear I'll clean it all up! I'll clean it up! I-I swear!"

Louisiana lets go of her ear. "If I see a speck of confetti anywhere, I won't hesitate to turn you into gumbo."

South Dakota makes a high-pitched squeak and frantically starts vacuuming the room right away.

☆☆☆☆☆

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ The shenanigans shown here are some harmless pranks I found on the Internet. I'm sure there are plenty of pranks I could've shown, some that are more harmful and destructive than the ones shown here. However, I'm not into pranks that come at someone's expense, especially the kind that concern a person's health and personal property. In my opinion, my South Dakota OC may be a prankster, but she's not the type to cause major harm on someone as a joke.
> 
> \- I originally thought about featuring ALL the Southern states being pranked by South Dakota. But after a quick search on the number of Southern states, I thought otherwise for I didn't want the episode to be too long. Sure, I could've done the pranks in parts. By the second part, however, I already featured twelve states (minus South Dakota). A third part would more or less be the same thing. Anyway, this part was sorta requested by one of my readers, so hopefully everyone liked South Dakota's silly shenanigans so far.


	17. South Dakota Pranks the South (Part 2)

__

~

_Previously on 50☆Stars: South Dakota pranks the Southern states. And now back to our regularly scheduled program._

~

After a near-death encounter with Louisiana, South Dakota decides to bring back-up for the next states she plans to prank. By back-up, she means her reluctant brother who doesn't want to piss off his fellow states. Nevertheless, he's forced to follow his sister into a downward spiral of trouble.

"Sis... Where are you?" North Dakota hisses for his sister's whereabouts.

He manages to sneak himself inside the house while being followed by a Texas Heeler who has yet to alarm her owner of the intruders. While looking around the dark house, he sees a light coming from the kitchen. His jaw falls to the ground when he discovers his sister eating a half-gallon container of cookie 'n cream ice cream.

"What are you doing?!"

She jolts in surprise. "Shh! You're gonna wake Tex."

He scowls. "You're supposed to be replacing the tubs of ice cream with ice."

"That doesn't mean I'm going to let this ice cream go to waste." She eats a spoonful of ice cream. "Mmn... Only in Texas can I get an  _actual_  half-gallon of ice cream," she snickers.

"You're damn right," Texas grumbles half-awake with a shotgun in hand.

North Dakota makes a high-pitched scream. "T-Tex! This is all a m-misunderstanding." He backs away from the grumpy Texan.

"A misunderstanding." Tex scoffs in disgust. "Y'all show up uninvited on my property. Y'all break into my house. And one of y'all is eating my Blue Bell ice cream."

"It's very delicious." South Dakota licks her lips.

She smiles. "I'm glad you like it." She cocks her gun. "I'll be nice and give y'all five seconds to scram before I shoot ya brains out. Okay?"

"Five seconds?!" North Dakota screams in a panic.

"1... 2..."

The Dakotas scramble out of her house before she finished counting.

☆☆☆☆☆

Virginia heads out to the front porch of her home. She's about to grab her broom and start sweeping until she finds a gift basket on her welcome placemat. She picks the basket up and inspects it. Inside the basket are individually wrapped caramel apples and a thank you card from the Dakotas. She smiles and holds off on cleaning the porch for now.

She brings the basket inside her home and places it on her kitchen counter. Knowing the Dakotas, she decides to take a closer look at one of the caramel apples. She takes a knife and chops one of the caramel treats in half. As expected, the treat is actually a caramel onion in the guise of a caramel apple. She shakes her head at the revelation, but she isn't upset. If anything, she's rather amused by their childish prank.

"Almost had me for a moment," she chuckles to herself. "Now, what am I going to do with all these caramel onions? I hate to waste them, but I don't think there's any use for them." She scratches her head.

Outside Virginia's house, the Dakotas peer through the window, watching another prank get foiled again.

"Can you tell me again why we're pranking the Southern states?" North Dakota asks.

"We're pranking them for fun, of course!"

He frowns. "You know, there are so many things we could be doing instead of making people mad at us."

"Yeah, but aren't you having fun?"

"No-"

"Come on!" She pulls him by the wrist.

"H-Hey!"

"We still have more states to prank!"

"I knew joining you was a mistake..."

~ Hetalia... ~

"Are you kidding me?" Arkansas shakes his head, unable to process the mess on his desk.

Where to begin? His desk is a bizarre case of multiple pranks going on at once. His entire wall is completely covered in yellow sticky notes. His desktop is completely wrapped like a Christmas present. Actual grass is growing out of his keyboard. For some reason, his stapler is in a giant glob of yellow jello. Without a doubt, this prank is one of the most annoying for him to ever clean up.

He groans, "This is ridiculous." He pulls out a chair to sit himself down on.

_HOOOOOONK!_

"Aaaaah!" He stands up in surprise. "Jesus Christ!"

He looks underneath his chair to find an air horn strapped underneath his seat. There's also a sticky pad attached to the can. It says: If this sssurprises you, wait 'til you sssee what we did to your bathroom - ND & SD.

Arkansas scowls.  "Please don't tell me they put a snake in the toilet..." While grumbling over the mess, a couple of garter snakes slither out from underneath the bathroom door.

~ Hetalia... ~

"So, because of that stupid brat, I had to spend half an hour trying to pick all that cotton off my truck," Alabama complains to his Southern brothers as they sit around a fire pit and drink cans of beer like the dudes they are.

"I heard she got Ginny some fake candy apples or something like that. Don't know what's up with that. But I'm prepared in case the little hooligan decides to pull some bullshit on me," says Kentucky.

"Same," Tennessee agrees with him. "I made sure to change my locks and set up a security system in case she or her brother decide to do something dumb when I'm not paying attention. There's no way she can prank me without me catching her in the act first." He and his brothers laugh.

While they continue to talk, a car pulls up at Tennessee's home. A young woman gets out of the car and storms up to them, her face all red and her eyes glaring directly at the Tennessean.

"Uh, can I help ya, miss?" Tennessee asks the woman.

"Miss?!" she scoffs. "Dontcha recognize me?"

Kentucky and Alabama look to a confused Tennessee for an explanation. "Uh... No, I don't-"

"You damn pig!" She slaps him across the face. "I trusted you, you son of a bitch!"

"Miss! Calm down. I'm sorry, but I don't recognize you. Are ya sure you're not confusing me with someone else?"

She gasps in offense. "Ya think I forget the night you decide to bust a nut in my punani-"

"W-Whoa! Whooaa! We're trying to keep this PG-13 here."

"PG-13? Huh. I thought we were rated more mature than that..." Kentucky mumbles.

Tears form in her eyes. "I expect child support from you."

"Child support?!" Tennessee shakes his head. "Ya can't be serious. There's no way-"

"Don't you dare put this on me!"

"Miss, I can't possibly be-"

"Can't possibly be what? The father of my child!"

"I don't even know you!"

While Tennessee is preoccupied with the angry woman, he and his Southern brothers have yet to see the Dakotas in the back of the woman's car. North Dakota watches the whole affair escalate, growing increasingly uncomfortable of the drama unfolding before them.

"Should we... Should we interfere?"

South Dakota titters, "Why? I paid good money for that actress. Besides, we're teaching him a good lesson." She continues to film the prank.

"What lesson is that? Practicing safe sex?"

"Sure, let's go with that." She laughs at Tennessee getting slapped across the face again. "Wow! She's really good at this. In fact, she's really into it."

He frowns. "He's going to be so pissed when he finds out about us..."

~ Hetalia! ~

Every two weeks or so, North Carolina goes to her local Krispy Kreme doughnut shop to buy herself some, well, doughnuts. Like usual, she goes up to the front counter to order a dozen donuts.

"Hey, I would like... I'm sorry, but you look familiar. Have we met before?" She narrows her eyes at the short man behind the registrar. 

"What? Nooooo..." The short man awkwardly says this in an exaggerated voice while shaking his head. He fidgets his fake mustache and adjust fake wig before returning a smile.

She's about about to question him, but a cough behind her makes her conscious about the customers waiting behind her. She decides to set her doubts aside and just order her doughnuts. "I want a dozen donuts: three original glazed, three chocolate iced glazed, three strawberry iced with sprinkles, and three powdered cake."

"Alrighty then." He makes the order. Just as she swipes her credit card on the machine, he suddenly exclaims, "Oh!"

"Oh, what?"

"I see you're a regular at this shop, right?"

"Uh, yeah. What about it?"

"Since you're a loyal customer, Krispy Kreme is going to give you a free box of doughnuts."

"Really? Thanks!" She beams in surprised delight.

After a minute of waiting, a female worker hands North Carolina her box of doughnuts. "Here you go, miss."

She stares at the female clerk. "You look.. odd." She notes the girl's blonde wig and giant glasses.

Sweat drips down the worker's forehead. "W-Well, you look odd yourself." She fakes a huff before heading to the back of the shop.

North Carolina scowls. "I didn't mean it as an offense. Although, I swear I seen her before..." She continues to wonder about the worker as she heads out of the shop and back to her car.

Before she drives back home, she decides to take a peak in the free box of donuts she got. Opening the box, she's surprised to find it full of jelly-filled doughnuts. She doesn't mind jelly-filled doughnuts although it's weird for the ship to not give out their usual glazed doughnuts. Oh well. It's still free doughnuts. She shouldn't be complaining.

She gets a napkin from the bag and carefully wraps it around a doughnut. One bite into the doughnut, she frantically grabs a clean napkin and spits out a glob of mayonnaise and dough. She gargles her mouth with bottled water before spitting it out the window.

"Assholes." She wipes her mouth with another napkin.

Okay, forget the jelly-filled jokes. At least, she still has her usual do-

"Bleh!" She spits out a piece of her powdered cake doughnut. "Baby powder?! Ugh!" She gargles and spits more water out of her mouth.

~ HETALIA! ~

North Dakota notices his sister snickering to herself. "What's so funny?" He takes off the fake wig and fake mustache.

South Dakota takes off her disguise as well. "I can't believe that worked."

"What worked?"

"The cake doughnuts. I managed to coat them in baby powder before putting them in the box," she laughs.

"You did what?!"

"Relax, bro. It's just a prank."

"We already put mayonnaise in the jelly-filled doughnuts!"

"And?"

"She's going to kill us!"

"Kill us? There's no way she's going to kill us over a box of doughnuts."

The door slams open. North Carolina appears with a rifle in hand. "I want my refund!"

"AAaaaAAAAaaaahhhh!" The Dakotas run for their lives.

"Get back here!" The Carolina Panther gives chase.

☆☆☆☆☆

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ Not much to add for the endnotes of this episodes. Like the previous episode, it's basically South Dakota (and her brother) playing pranks on the Southern states. Anyway, hopefully there are readers who enjoy the Dakotas' appearance in this episode.


	18. Why Americans Love Spring

~

"Ah, fuck yeah!" America yells in excitement. Tony helps America with his jacket, unphased by his giddy behavior. "I waited over a gazillion years for this fucking day! Kingdom Hearts III, here I come!" He slams open the door.

A blast of freezing wind hits his face like a wrecking ball made out of ice. He stands behind the doorway, reluctant to head out onto the snow-covered streets, devoid of any life with no one in sight. He slowly closes the door behind him.

"I'll guess I'll buy it digitally then..." He slinks underneath a giant blanket.

"Good idea," says Tony.

☆☆☆☆☆

**Atlanta, Georgia ~ 41°F**

"Oh my God, Georgia! It was brief, but I finally got some snow in my home! It was so scary, yet so magical!" Mississippi continues to prattle while drinking warm tea in her living room.

"That's wonderful, sweetie." Georgia calmly sips her cup of tea.

She shivers with excitement. "Even more amazing, I hear this year is going to bring me lots of snow. Like, maybe two inches of it! I can't wait!" Her laughter becomes the envy of many Americans trying to survive the polar vortex.

"Well, hopefully this cold snap doesn't bother the Super Bowl's schedule too much. The cancelled flights are making me worry for my guests."

"Oh, right! I'm surprised they haven't put it off. By the way, who are you rooting for in this year's Super Bowl?"

She scoffs, "The Rams, obviously. I still haven't forgiven the Patriots for that loss." She pouts.

"Oh, yeah! I still can't believe the Patriots came back from a 28-3 lead. You must've been in quite a shock," she giggles.

Georgia glares at her. "Yes... Quite a shock..." She sips her tea.

"Hm... I guess I'll root for the Rams, too." She shrugs. "Sorry, Louise. I know she's still mad about the Saints not going to the Super Bowl and is rooting for the Pats to beat Cali's butt. However, I hate to see the Pats win again. I'm so sick of watching the Patriots in another Super Bowl!"

"Same," she bluntly agrees. "I still feel bad for Missouri. She was really optimistic, thinking she could beat Massachusetts." She sips her tea. "As much as I hate to see Cali win all the time, if the Rams manage to beat the Patriots, I'll consider it a win for America."

"Yeah! Let's hope the Rams win. For America!"

Georgia sighs. "Anyway, let's just hope this weather doesn't get any worse than it is now. I can't imagine having to go through a freezing winter. Dreadful for people in the Northeastern and Midwestern states. I pray nothing horrible happens to them." She sips her tea.

~ Hetalia... ~

**Boston, Massachusetts ~ 25°F**

"Made it!" Massachusetts arrives at the airport, his head covered in snow.

He heads over to the terminal, hoping to catch his flight to Atlanta in time for the upcoming Super Bowl. But when he gets there, he learns his flight has been delayed. He looks out the glass window and sees the plane being showered with hot water. He breathes out a groan before heading over to the waiting area. Until his flight is ready, he distracts himself with social media, seeing how his fellow states are doing during this harsh winter.

**Ohio@buckeye17**

Woke up to a loud shake and boom this morning. Thought it was construction. It turned out to be an ice quake...

**Michigan@thewolverine26**

HELL has LITERALLY frozen over!!! ❄❄👿❄❄

**North Dakota@roughrider39**

Not enough snow - my sister in -20°F weather. smh

**Colorado@rockymountainhigh**

blessed with some extra snow for some gnarly snowboarding

**Iowa@amaizing_hawkeye**

Just fed my farm animals this morning... Can't feel my face... Going back inside... Can't talk or I'll die... #polarvortex #staysafe #staywarm

**South Carolina@PrincessPalmetto**

Just helped @coolguychicago arrest Elsa the Snow Queen from unleashing anymore terror onto the North. Y'all can thank me later.

**Virginia@QueenElizaX**

Can someone explain the Shaggy from Scooby Doo memes to me? I've seen it everywhere, and I honestly don't get it.

**California@goldengurl31**

i like seriously can't wait for the Super Bowl. GO RAMS!!! 🐏

**Louisiana@bayoubabe18**

_Replying @goldengurl31_   _@official_nfl_ 🖕🏾😡🖕🏾

Massachusetts hears the announcer notify his flight is ready for take off. He gets up from his seat and leaves for the terminal.

~ Hetalia! ~

**Chicago, Illinois ~ -13°F**

After setting fire to the train tracks like no big deal, Illinois and Wisconsin take a train on their way to see "Hamilton: An American Musical" once again. When they get to the theater, however, they notice the doors are closed shut.

"Aaaaaawww!" She and Illinois awkwardly stand outside the theatre. "B-B-Brrrrrrr, kills Hamilton again!"

Illinois groans. "Y-Your puns are g-going to kill me b-before the cold d-does," his teeth chatter.

"What now?"

"We should head back to my place." He shivers. "G-Get ourselves warmed up. Watch a movie or something to pass the time."

"Oooh." She makes a cat smile. "Are you asking me to Netflix and chill?" She wags her eyebrows.

He rolls his eyes. "It's already cold enough as it is with your lukewarm puns."

She chortles and snorts, "I'm only joking. Never in a million years will I ever get together with a FIB."

"Hahahaha! I'm not surprised. You cheeseheads would rather fuck cheese than actual human beings."

The two share a warm laugh in the freezing Windy City.

~ Hetalia! ~

"Like, bro, do you really have to play that game in the dark?" America whines as he curls underneath a pile of blankets.

He can't help but watch Tony play the Resident Evil 2 remake on his TV. He wants to look away, but he doesn't. Tony continues to play the horror game, paying no attention to America's shivering. The alien gives off creepy chuckle, spooking America like crazy.

"Why can't spring come soon- AAAaaaaAAAhhh!" America screams seeing Mr. X appear out of nowhere on screen. He quickly hides his head underneath the blankets, hibernating until spring's arrival.

☆☆☆☆☆

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ In summary, a polar vortex is a low-pressure area near the Earth's poles; they aren't new. They tend to fluctuate in strength every year. Whenever they're strong, they're usually well-contained around the poles. But when they weaken, the vortices will sometimes break off into two or more disorganized vortices that'll migrate as far as the equator, bringing arctic temperatures over such areas.
> 
> \- Such a case happened in the early months of 2019. Many states in America as well as many provinces in Canada faced a cold wave of subzero temperatures. States such as Wisconsin, Michigan, and Illinois declared states of emergences. Some Midwestern cities such as Chicago had temperatures as low as - 50°F. People living in those area would often hear booming sounds coming from 'frost quakes'. And in parts of the Southern United States, people there saw snow, an atypical phenomenon in the region. Classes were cancelled, flights were cancelled, anyone in such areas were told to stay warm at home. Good advice!
> 
> \+ Even though this is a light-hearted chapter, the cold wave itself shouldn't be taken lightly. Some people have died from the subzero temperatures. WIthout a doubt, there'll be more cold waves happening the future. To anyone anticipating cold temperatures, always be prepared and stay warm.


	19. Ding Dong Dead

~

"Hey, Wash!" Oregon enters his backyard. "Who are you talking to?" She refers to the elderly woman standing beside him in his garden.

"I'm just talking with Miss Mori. She lives next door to me," says Washington.

Miss Mori bows her head. "Hello. You must be the friend with the pet beaver."

"How do you know I have a pet beaver?"

"The beaver clinging to your leg, obviously." She stares down at the beaver hugging Oregon's leg.

Oregon picks her beaver up in her arms. "Well, what were you two discussing before I showed up?"

"Just gardening stuff. I was just discussing with her about growing a Japanese apricot over by my koi pond." He points at a empty space between two cherry blossom trees.

"Mmn-hmn." Miss Mori casually smiles. "I hope to be buried there when the time comes."

"Uh... what?" Oregon has a scared look in her eyes.

"My nutrients will provide for both the tree and soil. That way, the Earth isn't harmed by my death."

"Uh, Wash. You're okay with this?"

"The plum blossoms will certainly be beautiful. It'll especially look great during the springtime."

"Speaking of plum blossoms, my Korean friend knows how to turn the plum blossoms into hwajeon (flower cake). I'll ask her to give you the recipe when the time comes."

"Cool."

"Wash. Please tell me you're not seriously burying a person in your backyard." She nudges his arm.

"If you want, I can introduce you to one of my Chinese friends. She knows how to turn the plums into meijiang (plum sauce), and it tastes really good with egg rolls. I can ask her to teach you sometime."

"Maybe I'll ask her once the tree starts producing plums. After that, I might sell some jars at the local farmers market."

"What a wonderful idea."

"Wash? Wash?! Please tell me you're joking!"

☆☆☆☆☆

"What's up, dudes!" New Jersey smiles at the camera filming him. "Today, I'll be visiting my friends. However! This is no ordinary visit. This is... A PRANK!"

The camera zooms in on a suburban house.

"Alright! Time to get pranked!"

Jersey tip-toes to the door. He quickly presses the doorbell three times and runs over to the side of the house behind some bushes. He peeks from behind the corner, focusing the camera on the front door.

Delaware opens the door. He pokes his head out and looks around the area. He doesn't see a cardboard or anyone in sight. "Did I just get pranked?" he mutters to himself. He closes the door and goes back to reading his book. Little does he know about the giggling redhead around the corner of his house.

"Round two," Jersey giggles as he goes up to the door again. He rings it twice and runs back to his hiding stop just in time.

Once again, Delaware opens the door to find no one in sight. This time, he's annoyed. "Dumb kids." He shakes his head and closes the door. He proceeds to ignore the constant ringing after the second time.

After ringing the bell for the hundredth time, Jersey finally gives up on Delaware in a disappointed sigh. "Welp. Grandpa there is being a grump as usual. But that's okay! Cuz we're off to visit (prank) another friend!" He leaps off-screen.

~ Hetalia! ~

_Ding-dong! Ding-dong!_

Pennsylvania gets up from her couch to answer the door. When she opens it, she finds no one in sight. Wrong door, perhaps? She closes the door and heads back to the living room.

_Ding-dong! Ding-dong!_

Not long after sitting down, the doorbell is ringing again. Without question, she knows it's a prank. It has to be a prank. She thinks about ignoring it. However, she decides to have some fun of her own. She beckons her Boxer to come with her to the door. She opens the door and lets the dog sniff out the prankster. It doesn't take the Boxer very long to find the New Jerseyan hiding down the street.

_Arf! Arf! Arf!_

Jersey's eyes widen at the medium-sized charging toward him. "Oh, shit!" He runs away.

The phone films his frantic footsteps before smashing into the concrete. From the ground, the camera films Jersey getting slobbered by a brindle-coated dog. As soon as Penny catches up to them, she picks up his phone and films New Jersey's slobbered face.

"Ding dong ditch. Really?"

"Good prank, right?"

"Seems like you're the one who got pranked."

"Touché."

"Woof!" The Boxer licks his face.

~ Hetalia! ~

_Ding-ding! Ding-ding! Ding-ding! Ding-ding! Ding-ding!_

New Jersey hurries into the nearby bushes. He impatiently waits for the owner to open the door. He waits for many minutes, keeping count from his phone. After waiting for a while, however, he's unable to get anyone out of the house.

'His car is here, so he has to be home. Is Connecticut ignoring me or something?' Jersey eyes the door.

Little does Jersey know Connecticut is watching him from his private security room. Connecticut watches the redhead on a TV screen, eating a tub of popcorn while waiting for his call to be picked up.

"9-1-1. What's your emergency?" says a woman at the other end of the line.

"So," Connecticut begins to explain, "there's this intruder lurking around the front of my house. Can you send a cop to arrest them or something like that?"

"Okay. We're sending an officer to your location."

"Thanks." Connecticut hangs up with an evil smile on his face. "This is going to be good." He stuffs a handful of popcorn into his mouth.

Meanwhile, unaware of what Connecticut is doing, Jersey stands at the front door, ringing the doorbell constantly. He even attempts to knock on the door to get his attention. "Damn it! I know you're in there, moneybags!"

_Whoop-whoop-whoop!_

New Jersey turns around and stares wide-eyed at a police car. A police officer over six and a half feet tall gets out of the car. "Hey! What are you doing?" the officer questions.

"Crap!" Jersey flees the scene.

"Hey! Stop right there!" The officer gives chase.

Connecticut watches the entire chase from inside his house. He laughs out loud, unable to hold back tears. "Hahahahaha! Oh my god! I can't wait to put this on YouTube," he breathes.

~ Hetalia! ~

_Ding-dong-ding! Ding-dong-ding!_

"Vermont, can you go get the door for me?" New Hampshire asks Vermont while he's cooking in the kitchen.

"Sure! No problem." He heads over to the door. He checks the window, but he finds no one in sight. "They must've left." He goes back to the kitchen to check on his friend.

"Who was it?" New Hampshire asks.

"Don't know. They left before I-"

_Ding-dong-ding! Ding-dong-ding!_

They look over to the door.

"Must be the neighborhood kids," he sighs.

"Don't worry. I'll tell them off, so they don't bother us when we eat lunch together."

Vermont heads back to the front door. He walks out of the house in search of the hooligans. Unfortunately, he's unable to find them. He awkwardly stands on the porch, unsure what to do next.

"U-Um... Y-You kids shouldn't be bothering your neighbors! It's not nice, and you can get hurt if you upset them too much. S-So.. Stop bothering us!" He heads back inside the house.

"Did you teach them a lesson?" He asks him.

Vermont scratches the back of his head. "Sorta. Hehe..."

_Ding-dong-ding!_

"Doesn't look like it worked."

Vermont slams open the door. "Hey-"

"Rrraaaugghh!" A ghillie-suited monster appears before hand.

"AaaAAAaaaahhh!" Vermont makes a high-pitched scream. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, and he faints in New Hampshire's arms.

"Hahahahaha!" New Jersey laughs as he takes off the hood of his ghillie suit. "You just got pranked, suckas!"

"You gave him a heart attack!" New Hampshire scolds him.

"It's just a prank, bro. He's not actually dead."

"You're a terrible person."

"At least I'm not terrible at pranks." He winks at the camera.

"Asshole..." he grumbles.

~ Hetalia... ~

"Okay! This is the last house for the day."

New Jersey heads up to the door. Just as he's about to press the doorbell, the door slams open. North Carolina holds a rifle to Jersey's chest, making him take a few steps back in shock. Her green eyes pierce right through his throat, stopping him from making a smartass remark.

"I. Am. Done. With. Pranks," she emphasizes each word in scathing resentment. "If I see you anywhere near my house again, I won't hesitate to shoot you. Ya got it?"

He nods. "Y-Yeah. Got it."

She takes the rifle off his chest. Just as he's about to breathe, she shoots at the grassy lawn behind him, making the hair at the back of his neck stand straight up.

"I mean it!" She narrows her eyes at him. "That's your warning shot. The next one is going straight into your ass the next time you bother me." She slams the door closed.

"That crazy bitch..." He smirks. "... Fuck it!" He quickly presses the doorbell and runs for his dear life.

North Carolina slams open the door. "I'LL KILL YOU!" She shoots at him.

☆☆☆☆☆

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ Human composting is basically what it means: a deceased human body is decomposed (within thirty days) into soil, providing nutrients to whatever grows from there. Compared to various burial methods such as cremation and burial in a casket, human composting is praised for being eco-friendly for it doesn't waste natural resources, it takes up less space (compared to graves and vaults), and it doesn't harm the Earth. For many eco-friendly residents in the State of Washington, this option is getting popular support. Since May 2019, human composting has been legalized in the State of Washington, becoming the first state to do so.
> 
> \- Some may be weirded out by this bit of news; some may disagree with this type of burial method for whatever reason. Obviously, there are many practical and ethical questions regarding human composting. I recommend anyone interested on the subject look into it. Then again, the FBI may cast doubts on your search history, so...
> 
> \+ The rest of the episode was based on a request. I thought about making it a two-parter like the 'South Dakota Pranks the South' episodes, however, I realized how repetitive that would be if I were to include every member of the Original Thirteen. Anyway, hopefully everyone liked this episode full of pranks.


	20. A Rivalry for the Paul Bunyan Trophy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This episode is going to deviate from the "rules" of this book by featuring human names. The reason is due to showing a 2P! version of one of my 50 States OCs for the sake of this episode's plot. For those who are wondering, I'm not into 2P! Hetalia. As such, the 2P! Hetalia OC I'll be showing is my attempt at this kind of character, so they may seem "off" to some.
> 
> By the way, I won't be writing '2P! Michigan' throughout the episode, so I'll be distinguishing both Michigan OCs by human names. For readers who don't know, my '1P! Michigan' OC is named Millicent or Millie in short. As for 2P! Michigan's human name, I've given them the name Mackenzie or Kenzie in short. Anyway, I hope anyone reading this episode doesn't mind these exceptions.

****

~

**1898 ~ Ann Arbor, Michigan**

American football was still in its developmental stage as more colleges began adopting their own football teams.

One of the colleges to have their own football team was the University of Michigan. A year ago, its football team devastated Ohio State in a lopsided 34-0 victory. Many years before that, they defeated another rival, Notre Dame, in another one-sided victory of 8-0. Without a doubt, they were confident they would be able to defeat their visiting opponent in today's game.

"Is that really the best your team can do? The freshmen here can make better plays than what you're doing," Millie mocked her opponent.

Kenzie's ears were smoking red. Her team had yet to score a point so far in this game. "Fucking score, Aggies! We gotta prove to these stupid trolls we're a million leagues better than them!" she hollered like mad.

Michigan State University was originally known as Michigan Agricultural College at this time. They were the younger college whose ideals couldn't be anymore different than their urban opponents. One might even say they had an inferiority complex toward them. Quite understandable considering legislators for the University of Michigan prevented the farmers college from being called a 'university'.  As such, it wasn't surprising they wanted to be taken seriously, hopefully proving themselves by taking down their athletically superior neighbors.

Unfortunately, they weren't able to topple the Wolverines. The game ended in a lopsided loss of 39-0. Oof!

Millie snickered, "Wow. I can't believe I took you seriously. Not even Ohio State sucked as much as your team."

Kenzie gritted her teeth. "Don't compare me to that Suckeye sissy!"

She brushed her off. "Well, this was good practice for the seniors. Next time, I'll let the freshmen have a go at your team."

"Freshmen?!" Kenzie grabbed her by the shirt collar. "Listen here, scumbag! My team might've lost this game, but that doesn't mean you get to treat my team like a bunch of babies!"

"Let go of me!"

"Not until you respect me as a rival!"

"Never!" She spat in her face.

Kenzie was taken aback by the rude gesture. Her eyes burned a murderous shade of red. A deep growl grumbled from her throat. Her left hand reached behind her back.

Millie was quick to figure what she was doing. Just in time, she blocked the hatchet's blade with her wrench before it hit her face. "Are you crazy?! You can't kill me!"

An evil smile curved along her face. "Watch me!"

Millie groaned. "Why can't you be a depressing emo like Wisconsin...?"

It would take her many hours before she could tire Kenzie and make her escape. However, it was only temporary for she would be forced to compete with her counterpart again in many years to come.

☆☆☆☆☆

**1953 ~ East Lansing, Michigan**

Governor G. Mennen Williams of Michigan was ecstatic to hear Michigan State University would be joining the Big Ten Conference. In celebration of their inclusion, he presented Michigan State University and the University of Michigan a distinguished trophy, celebrating both universities' importance to the state.

The carved wooden trophy stood nine feet tall: the trophy was four feet tall while the cylinder base it stood on made up the rest. The trophy itself was a statue of Paul Bunyan, a giant lumberjack of American folklore. The muscular giant proudly stood over a map of the State of Michigan, his axe buried at the center of the Mitten. Without further description needed, the trophy essentially emitted big dick energy to whoever won this interstate rivalry.

Being the prideful Yooper she was, Kenzie was determined to prove her right to compete as a rival and be taken seriously. "That trophy is mine. I won't let you have it." She eyed Paul Bunyan like it was the biggest diamond on display.

Contrary to what Kenzie saw, Millie thought the trophy was an eyesore that paled in comparison to other college football trophies. Plus, it looked like an ugly hassle to carry around. "Take it then. I don't want it."

She shook her head. "No. The trophy wouldn't mean anything if I didn't beat you in a football game." Her eyes burned with determination.

Millie scoffed, "Ha! You're never going to beat me."

~ Three hours later... ~

"WOOOOOOOOOO! I won! In your face, scumbag!" Kenzie screamed at the top of her lungs as the football players carried her and the trophy across the field.

Millie stood along the sidelines, her arms crossed, as she watched their celebration in displeasure of their win. "Whatever. You got lucky this game. There's always next time," she huffed.

"Suck my tits, loser!"

"Fuck you!"

~ HETALIA! ~

**1954 ~ Ann Arbor, Michigan**

As payback for last year's game, the Wolverines pummeled the Spartans with a game-ending score of 33-7. Even though they won the Paul Bunyan Trophy, they didn't exactly want to keep it. In fact, they left Paul Bunyan on the field for half an hour until Kenzie threatened to chop them up with her hatchet if they didn't take it.

"Take it, you stupid trolls! It's yours!" Kenzie tried to push the trophy through the door of the athletic department.

"That trophy is an eyesore!" Millie blocked the door with all her might.

She slammed her body against the door. "Speak for yourself! That trophy is magnificent!"

"If you like it so much, you should be the one to keep it!" She pushed harder against the door.

"That wouldn't be right! This trophy wouldn't mean a thing if I kept it forever! Therefore, keep it until I win it back!"

"Fuck no! I don't want that trophy!"

"Who fucking cares?! Take it!"

"That stupid statue is better off in a museum! If it wasn't a gift from my boss, I would've chucked it into a woodchipper!"

Kenzie gasped in offense. With all her brute strength, she barged through the door. She tackled Millie to the ground, preventing her from getting up. "If you don't take this motherfucking trophy right now, I'll smash your skull with it." She lifted the statue above her head.

Millie gritted her teeth. "... Fine!" she relented.

Kenzie placed the statue beside her head. She got off her and walked to the door. "If you so much as break his nose, I'll break yours." She glared as she exited the building.

Millie scowled at the trophy she was left with. "Great. What am I supposed to do with you?" she grumbled.

She ended up leaving the Paul Bunyan trophy in an equipment closet. Poor Paul Bunyan...

~ Hetalia... ~

**1958 ~ East Lansing, Michigan**

Michigan State was currently in a winning streak against their interstate rival. Many expected this game to go in MSU's favor. So, it came as a surprise to many to see the game end in a 12-12 tie. Even Kenzie was shocked by the results.

"Better than losing I guess." Millie sighed. She turned her attention to Kenzie, taken aback by her counterpart's gloomy aura. "What now?"

"I should've murdered you..." she moaned in a defeated posture.

"Well, too bad. Do better next time. Or actually, don't do better."

"I should've murdered you..." She pushed the Paul Bunyan trophy toward her.

She gave her a weird look. "I didn't win."

"I don't deserve it."

She scowled. "I don't want it." She pushed it back to her.

"Just take it." She pushed it toward her.

"No." She pushed it back to her.

"Take it."

"No, damn it!"

"It's better off in your hands."

"It's better off being in yours because I didn't win!"

"I didn't win either, so-"

"Just keep it, damn it!"

"I'll kill you if you don't take it."

"Go ahead then! At least I don't have to keep nine feet of wasted space!"

After a long, grueling, bitter argument, Kenzie ended up keeping the trophy in reluctance.

~ Hetalia... ~

**2001 ~ East Lansing, Michigan**

It was the fourth quarter; less than a minute on the clock. The score was 24-20 in the undefeated Wolverines' favor. The Spartans were now in the Wolverines' territory at the 3 yard line with a first and goal. If the Spartans managed to get the ball to the end zone, either by running the ball or having it be caught by a receiver within the end zone, they would win and end the game. The Wolverines' defense was aware of this possibility, making them determined to prevent their opponent's offense from getting through to them. The stadium stood on edge, ready to see who would prevail: the Spartans' offense or the Wolverines' defense. It was all or nothing.

First down, the Spartans quickly spiked the ball, forcing the clock to stop at 17 seconds. Second down, the Spartans quarterback attempted to run the ball down the right side of the field. By the 2 yard line, however, he got tackled inbounds; the clock continued to run. The Spartans had no time-outs left to stop the clock. Time was running out. Third down, the Spartans hurried to spike the ball and stop the clock. By the time the ball hit the ground, the clock had already stopped with one second left. The stadium went wild.

"BULLSHIT!" Millie screamed at the top of her lungs. "The clock stopped before the ball hit the ground!"

"Get over it, crybaby," Kenzie snickered.

"You dirty cheat!" She pointed a finger at her.

"Dirty cheat? How am I a dirty cheat?"

"You purposely stopped the clock before the ball hit the ground, so your team could have another chance to make another play to score a motherfucking touchdown!"

"So?"

"You broke the rules!"

"Screw the rules! I have home field advantage!"

Millie fumed. "I swear if my team doesn't win, you're dead."

~ One second later... ~

"YOU'RE SO FUCKING DEAD!" Millie charges at Kenzie with a wrench.

Kenzie blocked her attack with her hatchet. She laughed like a madman, her eyes filled with bloodlust. "Is that all you got, bitch?" She swung her weapon at her. A bloody fight ensued.

After The Clock Incident, the Big Ten Conference changed its timekeeping policy as to prevent such a controversial fallout from happening ever again.

~ HETALIA! ~

**2007 ~ East Lansing, Michigan**

The Wolverines managed to make a comeback in the fourth quarter, winning the game with a score of 28-24 over the Spartans. While the Wolverines paraded the Paul Bunyan Trophy on the field, one of the reporters went up to Millie, asking for her thoughts on the Wolverines' comeback.

"Honestly, I was laughing. I thought it was hilarious seeing them get so worked up over their lead. It was like playing with your little sister. They get so hyped whenever you let them get the lead. Just when they think they're about to win, you come back and take it back from them," she laughed, unaware of the murderous aura lurking behind her.

The reporter backed away in fear. "U-Um, t-there's..." They ran away before they finished their sentence.

Millie blinked her eyes, but she shrugged off the short interview. "Whatever. I won, and that's all that matters."

"Little sister you say..." Kenzie muttered behind her back.

Millie became startled by her other's creepy presence. "Geez. Don't scare me like that."

"Is that how you think of me?"

"Well, yeah..." She backed a few feet away from her.

"I see," she cackled. "I'm one step closer to being acknowledged as your rival."

"The only rival I'm acknowledging is the guy downstairs."

"Screw the guy downstairs! I'm the one you should be worrying about. Next time, the Paul Bunyan Trophy will be mine. Then, you'll have to declare me as your rival."

"Never in my life will I ever call you anything resembling a rival. Like I said, you're nothing but a little girl who's all talk and no bite."

"All talk and not bite you say..." The blood red aura surrounding her grew twice in size. "How about I show you my bite then?" She brought up her hatchet.

"You're so fucking annoying," Millie groaned as she brought out her wrench, prepared to deal with another nuisance as usual.

☆☆☆☆☆

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ To clarify, I don't hate 2P! Hetalia. I think they're cool in terms of their designs and 'darker' personalities. But for the most part, I'm not really into the concept. In concern to my 50 States OCs, I'll make 2P! versions of them for fun. However, I won't feature these 2P! versions in their own stories. As for crossovers with my 50 States OCs, they may be a rare exception whenever I need them for plot contrivances such as this one. Although, I don't like having to distinguish them by their human names. Overall, just know 2P! Hetalia won't be majorly involved in this series.
> 
> \- On a side note, I based 2P! Michigan on the Upper Peninsula (to an extent). Even though Michigan State University is located in the Lower Peninsula, I would like to think the two share a commonality compared to 1P! Michigan and the University of Michigan.
> 
> \+ The Michigan–Michigan State rivalry is a college sports rivalry between the University of Michigan and Michigan State University (yes, it's a bit confusing for those don't care for college sports). This episode mainly focuses on college football, but it's important to note the rivalry is also seen in basketball, ice hockey, and men's soccer. From the University of Michigan's standpoint, the rivalry is just as heated as their rivalry with Ohio State although they like to pretend MSU doesn't exist or something like that along those lines.
> 
> \- In 1953, the Paul Bunyan – Governor of Michigan Trophy was introduced by Governor G. Mennen Williams to congratulate Michigan State for entering the Big Ten Conference. The trophy was often disliked by both teams who often refused to accept it in the early years of their rivalry. Despite this, both teams still coveted the trophy to prove their superiority over the other team. As of 2018, Michigan is ahead with 37 wins compared to Michigan State's 27 wins (there have also been 2 ties as well).


	21. Lunar Parades of Victory

~

"Ah~ At last!" the street sweeper exclaimed in sweet satisfaction. He took a moment to admire the clean streets of Boston. "I finally finished sweeping the confetti from the Red Sox victory parade. I can finally rest." He breathed a sigh of relief.

~ One week later... ~

"Sweet Caroline~ Good times never seemed so good~"

Over a million people gathered on the Boston streets, crowding the sidewalk to get a good view of the parade. The sky rained red, white, silver, and navy blue confetti onto the massive crowds. The cheers of many Patriots fans erupted like a volcano seeing their favorite NFL players ride on duck boats with the Lombardi Trophy in tow. Once again, Boston became a city of champions.

Massachusetts and his New England family rode in a duck boat alongside other Patriots players.

"Wooooo! We did it, New England! We did it again!" Massachusetts chugged down a can of beer.

"You're so cool, Brother, but please control yourself. I hate for the police to get involved." Maine cuddled a stuffed goat wearing a #12 New England Patriots jersey in her arms.

"Aaaaaaaah! We're getting attacked!" New Hampshire ducked his head from getting hit by a beer can.

"Shit! Shit!" Rhode Island dodged a bombardment of beer cans coming his way. He managed to catch a can in his hands. "Hey, Masshole! Get rid of this!" He tossed it to him.

"Wooooooo! Fuck New York!" Massachusetts downed another can of beer.

"You're going to get him arrested!" Maine scolded Little Rhody.

"Not my problem. Aaaaauugghh!" He got struck by three beer cans at once.

"Oh my. Is it me, or is New England a bit warmer than usual?" Connecticut stared at the shirtless football players ahead of him.

"Stop ogling men and help me overthrow all these beer cans!" New Hampshire shook him out of his trance.

"Hey, you guys!" Vermont waved and hollered from the safety of a balcony along the street. "How's the parade so far?"

"Great! Just great! Aaaaah!" Rhody cowered from another beer can being thrown at him.

"Brother! Stop drinking!"

"Come on, Maine. Just one more beer."

"That's your sixth beer already!" She tried to take the can away from him.

He wouldn't let go. "Noooo!"

"Let! Go! Ah!"

The beer can slipped from their hands, sending it straight into the air. The beer can launched to the duck boat ahead of them, hitting a shirtless tight end in the forehead. The football player held his forehead and groaned in pain. Massachusetts and Maine shrieked and ducked inside the vehicle before the injured tight end could see them.

As more beer cans and confetti continued to fly around the street, the street sweeper watched the parade from the back of the crowd, wearing a content smile on his face. "Ah~ It never gets old," he mumbled.

☆☆☆☆☆

**1859 ~ San Francisco, California**

Long story short, China was working in America's house to take opportunity of the country's fortune. Unfortunately for him, the First Transcontinental Railroad wasn't built yet. For now, he stayed in California's house as one of many Chinese immigrants living in her home. Guess how he was doing so far?

"China! China! I'm hungry!"

"Be patient, child!" China hurried to cook fried rice in a wok.

The little Californian tiptoed to see what he was preparing. She pouted. "More soy sauce!"

He pushed her away. "No! If anything, this fried rice should have less soy sauce."

"MORE SOY SAUCE!" She poured soy sauce into the wok.

"Aiyaaah! That's too much!"

"MORE SALT!" She splashed handfuls of salt into the wok.

"You're ruining it!"

"I'm making it better!"

"YOU'RE MAKING IT UNHEALTHY!"

~ Aiyah... ~

"What's wrong with American kids? They don't eat vegetables. No respect for their elders. So loud all the time," China grumbled while washing the bowls and chopsticks in a sink.

"China! China!" Cali ran back into the kitchen.

He groaned, "What is it now?"

She pulled his sleeve. "Hurry!"

"So demanding, too..." he muttered. Reluctantly, he followed her out the house.

After zigzagging down various streets and alleyways for what seemed like hours, China assumed she had no sense of direction. He was struggling to catch up with her rambunctious energy, nearly out of breath.

"Hurry up, slowpoke!"

"Slow down-aru! I'm not as young as you."

"Hurry! They're going to set off the dynamite!" She ran around the street corner.

"D-Dynamite?!"

It wasn't hard to do the math. California + Dynamite = Angry Americans. Not good.

"Cali!" He ran as fast as he could. He felt his back ache with every step he made.

When he finally caught up with her, she quickly hid behind him and pointed at a rusty house. "Stop him!" She referred to the young man lighting a long banner of "miniature, red dynamite".

He scowled. "That's not dynamite."

She cocked her head. "Wha-"

**_Crackle! Pop! Crackle! Snap! Snap! Crackle!_ **

The Chinese New Year firecrackers went off in a splendid series of sparkles and crackles. The young man, his wife, and his two year old son applauded the celebratory sight. The rest of Chinatown agreed as they were ready to set off their own firecrackers as well.

"... Oh. They were only setting off fireworks. Hehe..." She awkwardly chuckled, pretending to ignore China's annoyed glare.

~ Hetalia... ~

"So, why were they setting off fireworks? New Year's Day was over a month ago, and it's not America's birthday yet," Cali asked China as they walked back to her house.

'Fireworks on America's birthday? I'm not surprised...' he thought to himself before replying to her question. "You Westerners typically celebrate the New Year on the first day of January. That's true. But in my home, my people celebrate Chinese New Year instead."

"Chinese New Year? What's that?"

"Well, you see child, Chinese New Year takes place at the beginning of the lunisolar Chinese calendar and..." He was about to explain the Chinese calendar, however, he remembered he was talking to an American child with the patience of a hyperactive kitten. "... For you to understand, just know many Chinese people celebrate Chinese New Year sometime after Western New Year."

"Oh..." She blinked her eyes. "So, what's with the red?"

"The red?"

"Yeah! The people in Chinatown were hanging all these red banners and red lanterns along the streets. All the fireworks I saw were also red. So, what's up with that?"

"Oh! The red is to scare off Nian." 

"Nee-en?"

"A year beast. I'll tell you the story when we get home."

"Okay!"

~ Hetalia! ~

"Long ago in ancient times, there was a ferocious monster named Nian. The giant beast had sharp teeth and sharp horns. It was known to seclude itself in the dark sea. However, the monster would always come ashore by the end of the lunar year and hunt people and livestock. Nian was especially known to eat children."

"Children? Like me?"

"Yes. He would most definitely eat you first."

"Yeah, right." Cali pouted.

China made a short chuckle before continuing the story. "The villagers of one village were terrified of Nian. Usually, every time before New Year's Eve, the villagers would escape to the remote mountains to avoid Nian's attack. However, there was one year that was different. Prior to the villagers' retreat to the mountains, a strange, old man took refuge in the village."

"Was that old man you?"

"Stop interrupting my story-aru," he huffed. "That old man wasn't me. He was a beggar in rags who walked with a walking stick. The villagers welcomed him to their village, however, they were too busy preparing for Nian's arrival to pay the old man any attention. As soon as the villagers barred their homes shut, they went with their belongings to the mountains for shelter.

One of the last people to leave the village was a granny from the east side of the village. She noticed the old man and gave him some food. She told him about Nian and the terror the beast had caused, how he should flee to the mountains with the other villagers. However, the old man kept his cool and smoothed his whisker slowly. He requested to stay one night at the granny's house, and, in return, he would expel the beast in reward.

At first, the granny wasn't convinced of his promise. She continued to persuade him, however, the man did not change his mind. Without a choice, the woman allowed the man to stay at her house. She left the village and escaped to the mountain alone.

Soon, it was midnight. Nian came out of the sea and stormed the village. The monster sensed something strange within the village. In the past, the entire village was pitch black in darkness. But this year, there was one house in the east that was bright with light. The beast cautiously approached the house. It found all the doors and windows were plastered with red paper. It also found the source of the light. They came from many candles being lit from inside the house.

Nian trembled and bawled in anger as it glared at the strange things. The monster swooped to the front door. At that very moment, a loud crackling bursted in the courtyard, deterring the monster from getting any closer to the house. The front door suddenly slammed open in a brilliant flash of white. The old man appeared before Nian in a bright red gown, roaring with incredible laughter. Gravely frightened by the loud sight, Nian retreated into the dark night.

As soon as morning came, the villagers returned to their village. They were surprised to find their houses undamaged. The granny was also surprised. But then it dawned on her. The relief the old man promised to the granny came true. She quickly went to the other villagers and told them about the beggar's commitment. To see whether it was true, all the villagers flocked to the granny's house. When they arrived, they found red paper all around the doors and windows of her home. There were also red, melted candles inside the house as well as unburnt bamboo in the courtyard.

The villagers were soon enlightened by the truth. The bamboo's crackling, the bright light, and the color red were the keys to scaring Nian. In celebration of the village's triumph over the monster, the people dressed in red and visited neighbors in other villages to share the news with joy. Soon, everyone commanded their own ways of defending their homes from the beast. Thus, the color red was worn and celebrated as a part of Chinese New Year.

The color red symbolizes joy, virtue, truth, and sincerity. It's also a lucky color that repels misfortune and evil spirits such as Nian." China softly smiled. "Soon, I'll be hanging red banners and red lanterns around the house. If you don't want to get eaten by Nian, I suggest you wear red clothes when that day comes." He proceeded to pull something out of his pocket.

Cali cocked her head. "What are you doing?"

He handed her a small, red envelope. "I was planning on handing it to you tomorrow, but I might be working on the railroads for a long time. Anyway, be sure to-" He was about to tell her to put the red envelope underneath her pillow.

But Cali already went ahead and opened the red envelope. She poured six silver dollar coins onto the palm of her hand. Her eyes widened in surprise. "C-China! This is, like, half a month of work for you!"

"I..." He sighed. "It's fine."

"But-"

"It'll protect you from Nian."

"Really?"

He nodded. "It's custom for adults to give money to children on Chinese New Year. It'll ward off evil spirits and bring good luck and fortune, especially if you leave the unopened envelope underneath your pillow for seven days before opening it."

"Oh..." She looked down at her palms. "Whoops! Hehe."

"At least you know now," he chuckled.

"Um," she frowned at the coins in her hand, "thank you, but... Is it really alright for you to give me this much money? I already have plenty of money from the gold mines."

"Do not worry about me." He waved away her concerns. "Just promise me you'll spend that money wisely.

"... I promise," she relented and accepted his gift.

"Okay-aru. Time for you to go to bed."

"Yeah, yeah." Cali got up from the sofa and went down a hallway. She turned her head back at China. "Wǎn'ān (Good night)," she whispered before heading to her bedroom.

"Wǎn'ān." China smiled. He stretched back against the couch. "What a day." He pondered to himself. "... I guess she isn't that bad once she stops being loud and American."

~ Hetalia! ~

"Aiyaaahh... I think I hurt my back again..." China groaned as he went back to Cali's house after a long day of work.

**_Bong! Bong! Bong! Bong!_ **

**_Crackle! Snap! Crackle! Crackle!_ **

His ears perked up at the sound of drums and firecrackers occuring nearby. He turned the corner and saw rows of Chinese men dressed in red walking down the street. Some of the men held crimson flags. Some of the men held scarlet banners. Some of the men held bright red lanterns from long, bamboo poles. Some men held Chinese New Year firecrackers up high in the air, setting them off as they crackled and brightened the cool night. The beating of the drums echoed throughout the street. Many San Francisco residents stood outside their homes, watching the red parade in memorized awe and interest.

"I thought New Year's Day was last month," said one resident.

"Are we celebrating the Fourth of July early? What's going on?" said another.

"What's with these crazy Asian?"

"It's Chinese New Year!" squeaked a little girl in a ruby red dress. She handed a sparkler to a resident. "March!" she commanded.

"But why?"

"To scare off Nian!"

"Nee-en?"

"A scary monster! The beast will eat you if you stand here like a dumb duck doing nothing!"

"But-"

"Do you want to your house to be destroyed?! Do you want the beast to gnaw on your body like a well-done steak?! Do you?!"

"N-No!"

"Then march!

"O-Okay!" The resident grabbed the sparkler and proceeded to march alongside many residents and Chinese immigrants.

Cali weaved her way through the crowd and met back up with China. "Here." She handed him a sparkler.

"What's this?" He referred to the sight he was saying. Never before had he seen anything like it.

"It's a parade!"

"A parade?"

"You know! There's always a military parade whenever America won a war. I thought we could celebrate Chinese New Year by having a parade. That way, Nian wouldn't dare eat us."

"Ah! I see." He smiled. "It's very bright and beautiful. The beast will surely stay away from the town."

She huffed her chest with pride. "You're welcome!" She pulled at his sleeve. "Come on! We need to catch up before the parade leaves us behind."

"Alright, alright-aru! No need to rush me."He and California joined the paraders.

Together, they marched through Chinatown, celebrating Chinese New Year in San Francisco, the first parade of its kind and one of many to come.

☆☆☆☆☆

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ In 2019, Super Bowl LIII (53) pitted the New England Patriots against the Los Angeles Rams. As usual, the New England Patriots won another Super Bowl with a final score of 13-3, giving New England Patriots quarterback Tom Brady his sixth Super Bowl ring. The Patriots victory parade came nearly three months after the Boston Red Sox won the 2018 World Series. No doubt, I'm pretty sure Bostonians are used to having a victory parade on a yearly basis.
> 
> \+ Chinese immigration to the United States first began in the 1840s when news of the California Gold Rush reached across the world, attracting many prospectors to work in mines and railroads. Even though many of these Chinese immigrants intended to head back to China after gaining success in America, some ended up staying and starting their own businesses in what became known as the first Chinatowns. Even though the U.S. government welcomed these Chinese immigrants as a cheap source of labor, there was an antagonism toward them due to economic competition and cultural differences.
> 
> \- In 1859, Chinese immigrants in San Francisco celebrated Chinese New Year with a colorful parade featuring flags, banners, lanterns, drums, and firecrackers; such a celebration wasn't done in China before. The parade helped bridge the culture gap by combining American and Chinese cultures into something both can love and celebrate. Since the first San Francisco Chinese New Year Festival and Parade, the event continued to be hosted annually as one of the oldest and largest Chinese New Year celebrations outside China.


	22. Happy Valentine's Birthday

~

Love is in the air, filling the streets with romantic roses and cute couples of all shapes, colors, and genders. Some lovers begin their lovely day with a bed and breakfast in the morning. Some lovers plan a beautiful brunch at a charming café before noon. Some lovers reserve an exquisite evening at one of the finest restaurants in the world. And then there are those who cozy up on a comfy couch and binge watch cheesy movies on Netflix. Whatever plans they decide to do for Valentine's Day, it's all in the name of love-

"Fuck love! Fuck Valentine's Day!" Arizona interrupts the narrator in a boorish shout. "Aren't you forgetting something?" She narrows her eyes at the invisible narrator in the bright blue sky.

Uh... What did I forget?

"Today is my birthday, doofus!"

Oh, right... Today is also Arizona's birthday.

"That's right!" she giggles. "Today is the day I get pampered with wine and chocolate. Booyah!"

"No wine," New Mexico butts in with a disapproving frown. "You're not old enough to drink yet."

She groans, "But, brooooo! It's my birthday today!"

"Come on, dude!" California wraps her arm around him. "No harm giving her a little wine."

"I don't want her breaking the law."

"Technically, we're all old enough to drink alcohol," Nevada speaks up in Arizona's defense.

"Also, you expect us to forget about the tequila incident." She makes a sly smile.

"I'm just saying Arizona is the most likely among us to get caught."

"Really?" Nevada makes a weird face. "If anything, I think Cali is the one most likely to get us in trouble."

"Dude, I can totally hold my drink."

"You drank a whole bottle of vodka and nearly threw up on Georgia after the Super Bowl."

"Please don't mention the Super Bowl ever again..." She shivers at the travesty of that game.

"Come on, you guys!" Arizona waves her arms to get their attention. "Today is my Valentine's birthday. Make love, not war."

"Making love is my specialty." Cali makes bedroom eyes at Arizona.

New Mexico scowls. "We're not having an orgy on a train." He leads Arizona to the vintage, turquoise train.

"Does that mean I get to have wine then?"

"Only a little bit," he reluctantly relents.

"Yay!"

☆☆☆☆☆

On aboard the Verde Canyon Railroad, Arizona, New Mexico, Nevada, and California watch the mated bald eagles soar above the desert canyon sights while riding in a first class car, treating themselves to the Chocolate Lover's Special:  a Belgian chocolate fountain with marshmallows, bananas, strawberries, and pretzels for dipping alongside a gourmet chocolate platter. They also treat themselves to the train's other appetizers, unique cocktails, and signature wine. Without a doubt, everyone is going to get drunk and fat this Valentine's Day.

"Hey, Nevada. Come get in the picture with me." Cali brings herself closer to him, her smartphone in hand.

"Why?"

"I need to tell my followers what I'm doing this Valentine's Day. They need to know I'm not some lonely loser like Oregon."

Meanwhile...

"Achoo!" Oregon rubs her nose while sitting on a sofa at home. "Is someone making fun of me again...?"

Back on the train...

"Can I get in the picture, too?" Arizona butts in between the Golden State and the Silver State.

"No way." Cali pushes her away. "This is only me and Nevada."

"But we can be a threesome."

"Yeah, but three is a crowd. You're basically the third wheel."

"Third wheel?! Nevada and I actually get along. If anything, you're the third wheel."

She makes a dramatic gasp. "You're wrong! Nevada likes me more."

"The only thing he likes is your money."

"But he treats me better than most of my dates."

"It's fake love."

"You're fake love!"

"Uh, threesomes are good," Nevada interjects.

"It's not good enough!" the girls yell at him. They continue to bicker and cause a scene.

'Maybe I should've asked Sonora on a date instead...' New Mexico pitifully thinks to himself while eating a chocolate-covered strawberry.

~ Hetalia... ~

"Henry? Why did you bring me here?" The sweetheart makes a weird face at the LOVEworks sculpture before looking back at their partner.

Henry gets down on one knee, holding their lover's hand while looking into their beautiful brown eyes. "We've been together for three years," says Henry in a strong, yet tender voice.

"Technically, we've been together for three years and two months."

Henry rolls his eyes in a playful manner. "Three years, two months, I don't care. I love you." He smiles. "I loved you ever since our first date. The food might've been subpar, but you, yourself, were better than the dry-ass steak I had. You were like that expensive-looking chocolate lava cake on the dessert display. I wanted to eat you up."

 The sweetheart snorts in suppressed laughter. "Please stop. Just... You're killing me"

"But I'm not done yet."

"You're comparing me to a chocolate lava cake."

"Fuck yeah, I am! That's my favorite dessert."

"I think of myself as a tiramisu person."

"I..." He shakes his head. "Fine. You were like that expensive-looking chocolate tiramisu on the dessert display. I want-"

"Hahahahaha!"

"I'm trying my best here!" Henry can't help but laugh along as well. "What do you want me to say?"

His partner wipes a tear from their eyes. "All I want to hear are four words out of you."

Henry smirks. He pulls a small, black, velvet box from out of his pocket. He opens it, presenting a platinum ring. "Peter Brenton Jefferson Junior-"

"Not exactly the four words I wanted to hear, but go on."

He chuckles. "Will you marry me?"

Peter nods with a smile on his face. "Yes... Yes, I'll marry you!"

He slides the ring onto his lover's finger before getting up to hug and kiss his soon-to-be husband.

Their proposal attracts a few bystanders. A few asshats made faces of disapproval, however, their behavior is discouraged by supporters of the couple's love. In fact, one supporter helps take a picture of their proposal.

"Love is a beautiful thing," Virginia utters to herself as she snaps the photo.

"Thanks, ma'am," says Henry as he gets his phone back.

"No problem." She softly smiles. "You have my blessings."

She leaves the couple to chat about their future, continuing to stroll down the street and admire the budding romance between all lovers she comes across.

~ Hetalia! ~

"You know, this is sorta last minute," British Columbia sips her glass of wine.

"Well, there's no way I'm spending Valentine's Day alone," says Washington.

If Wash had to choose between being alone or a Tinder date, he would always go on a date with a stranger. Because being alone on Valentine's Day was NOT an option! His reservation at the SkyCity restaurant was already booked when his date texted him to cancel their reservation. The thought of California making fun of him for spending Valentine's Day alone would be a terrible thing to go through. Thus, he went through the lengths to find someone who was willing to join him for dinner. Luckily for him, someone took his offer. Even better, she was someone he could relate to.

British Columbia looks out the window, admiring Seattle's landscape with the Cascades in the rosy background. "I admit. I'm already enjoying myself."

"Me, too." Wash smirks as he admires her beauty. "The view is breathtakingly gorgeous."

She gives him a funny look. "Are you flirting with me?"

"Why would you think that?"

"Because this seems like something out of  _Fifty Shades of Grey_."

He hides his embarrassment with a cool chuckle. "Well, unlike the book's characters, I'm not a terrible person."

"But you are a young billionaire with a weird fetish."

"Bigfoot is not a fetish. It's a peculiar interest," he huffs.

She giggles, "I like you better when you don't act like a pompous aristocrat."

"You do?"

She blushes. "O-Oh, look! They're bringing out our dessert." She quickly changes the subject.

The Canadian and American enjoy their vanilla bean crème brûlée dessert that evening.

~ H-Hetalia! ~

Florida brushes her teeth until they're shiny and white. Once that's done, she cleans her face of any dirt in her pores, making sure not an ugly spot stands out during her blind date. She prepares a bottle of expensive perfume and sprays a bit across her body, wanting her date to fall instantly for her the moment he smells her. Of course, she'll need to impress him with her looks. She pulls open a drawer and takes out a pair of sunglasses. She puts it over her head. After that, she takes a moment to admire her dandy work, confident she's ready for tonight.

A proud smile grows on her face, her eyes brimmed with tears. "So beautiful," she awes at the precious cutie in front of her.

Blossom the American Alligator is ready for her blind date with a handsome gator at the beach. Pearly white grin, manicured claws, glossy black scales, and a pair of cool-looking shades over her head. She may have overdressed for the occasion, but first impressions are everything, especially for this blind date. Even though alligator mating season doesn't start until May, Florida thinks it'll be a good idea for her alligator to test the romantic waters very early. If Florida is lucky, she'll eventually find herself becoming a grandma in no time.

She giggles at the thought of raising fifty adorable hatchlings. "Ooooh! I can't wait for you to meet him."

Blossom hisses unsure.

"I promise he's better than Skull Basher."

Blossom tries to crawl away from another dumb date.

"Nuh-uh!" She grabs her gator, preventing her from getting away like last time. "You're not ditching your blind date." She carries the cold-blooded reptile out of the house.

Blossom hisses and whips her tail in anger.

"He's paying for dinner! What more do you want?"

Blossom hisses again.

"You're such a drama queen." She shakes her head. "Tell you what. If you and him don't hit it off in the first hour, I'll take you back home. Sounds good?"

Blossom grunts.

"... I guess that's a deal." She grins.

Florida helps Blossom to her car before driving off to the beach for their blind date.

☆☆☆☆☆

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ When I was writing this Valentine's Day episode, I had a hard time deciding the states I wanted to feature. For sure, Arizona and Virginia came to mind due to their association with love: Arizona is nicknamed the Valentine State after its statehood, and "Virginia is for Lovers" is a travel slogan in the State of Virginia.
> 
> \- I ended up featuring what were seen as the 'most romantic' states in America. Apparently, Nevada was number one, followed by Hawaii, Florida, California, and Washington who rounded out the top five, all of which were according to several sources who based their criteria on marriage rates, divorce rates, and overall happiness among relationships (some sources I saw listed California as the least romantic).
> 
> \+ Being the single person I am (at the point of writing this episode), I had to actually do a bit of research on unique Valentine's Day traditions within the states. Some were creative like a ride on the Verde Canyon Railroad. Some were traditional like a proposal at one of Virginia's LOVEworks sculptures or a romantic dinner at the SkyCity restaurant at the Space Needle. And then there was Florida being her usual self.
> 
> \- I originally included Hawaii for this episode, however, I had trouble distinguishing her Valentine's Day story in this episode, and I ended up scrapping it. Sorry, Hawaii...


	23. Yo, Let's Steal Their Cannons!

****

~

**August 23, 1775 ~ New York City, New York**

The darkness of night covered Manhattan Island like a black shroud over their heads. The only way they could see were the few who carried the torches of liberty in hand. They were led by the small, yet determined flames to the island's southern tip, careful not to cause too much of a commotion. The surrounding buildings were busy with their own affairs, however, not everyone was on their side, nor was the enemy too far away from where they were heading. Stealth was the key to their success in this undercover operation. The only question was whether they could pull this off or not.

The  _HMS Asia_ , a 64-gun Royal Navy warship, guarded the quiet harbor. New York spotted the lively lights on the British ship with his small, brass telescope. A couple of redcoats aboard the ship. Ten... Twenty... Forty... There was a good number of them, he decided. He turned his telescope back to the island's southern tip. Their goal was about fifty lengths ahead of them: the Battery that held twenty-four British cannons from what he was told. On the exception of the warship, the Battery was basically abandoned — a careless mistake on the redcoats' part. It all seemed coincidental, too easy in his opinion.

York couldn't believe what he was doing. He was volunteering with a group of traitors to steal weapons from his British guardian. If England were to find out what he did, no doubt a brutal punishment would come his way. To be associated with the likes of Massachusetts would ruin his reputation as a royal colony. Then again, was he ever faithful to England?

"Hey," the young man next to him shook his shoulder, bringing him back to the task at hand, "what did you see?'

York scowled at him. "A terrible mistake."

He chuckled on what he thought was sarcasm. "May I have a look at this 'terrible mistake'?" York handed him the telescope. The man peered into the telescope with a stupid grin on his face. "Ah, a terrible mistake! A terrible mistake holding twenty-four more to be exact." He tossed back his telescope.

"Hamilton, are we seriously doing this?"

The twenty-year-old didn't need to answer him. The smirk on his face was enough to tell York he had no intentions on wimping out. After all, his fellow volunteers were counting on him to lead them through this night. Backing out was never an option. This was a mission to help the patriots in the war. This was an opportunity to make himself stand above the crowd. This was a story about his raid on British cannons. And he was going to see it through to the very end.

"Listen up, men." He pointed in the direction of the Battery. "No redcoats are on the ground, but the  _Asia_  is waiting for us in the nearby water. Therefore, we must be silent, but quick as well." He took a few steps ahead of the group. "Let's go. Mulligan, you lead with me." He gestured to his friend as he and the volunteers discreetly made their way to the Battery.

York followed not far behind them, still pondering over this 'terrible mistake' he, Alexander, Hercules, and the others were committing.

☆☆☆☆☆

"Hurry, men! Secure them and get them out of here," Alexander Hamilton encouraged his men to speed up the process.

Volunteers hurried to tie the ropes to the cannons' heavy bodies before pulling the heavy artillery out of the Battery, watchful of the  _Asia_  who had yet to notice the commotion going on behind the trees and bushes of the island. It was a labor-intensive task as hard as the metal the cannons were made out of. In groups of four to five men, they were able to slowly move the cannons down the dirt path. Their excited breaths heated the warm night as they pulled the rope with all their might. Sweat poured down their faces. They cursed at the difficult task, but they were nevertheless determined to get the job done.

"Is this the revolution you wanted?" York grumbled as he tied a cannon with rope.

"What was that?" Alexander didn't catch his remark for he was distracted with the task at hand.

"Twenty-four cannons won't be enough to stop the British Empire. If anything, it'll only piss them off and make them more embittered to suppress us."

An enigmatic smile grew on Alexander's face. "Well, twenty-four cannons may not seem like a lot to you. But to the revolutionaries, it makes a big difference. We need to gather anything we can get our hands on. Men, cannons, gunpowder, every single thing counts, including you."

He scoffed, "This is a one-time thing. My main priorities are my studies at the university."

"Drop out, then. Join me and help prepare the patriots for the war."

"Drop out?" He gave him a disgusted look. "I can't just drop my studies and take up arms. Are you mad?"

"I mean," he scratched the back of his head and blushed, "I wouldn't be here if I didn't drop out. Hehe..."

"You dropped out?!" York exclaimed upset. "Please tell me you're fucking with me."

"Calm down, man. It's only temporary. Once the war is over, I'll continue my studies."

"This temporary may be permanent, you know," he bitterly huffed.

"Don't be such a downer. Let's just focus on getting these cannons out of here before we argue over your enlistment in the army."

"Enlist my ass."

He shrugged. "At least your ass is helping us at this moment," he chuckled.

From eleven to midnight, Hamilton and his volunteers managed to steal most of the cannons. York helped Hercules secure another cannon with rope for another group of volunteers to pull out of the Battery.

"That son of a bitch dropped out." York shook his head, still in disbelief that one of the most gifted students at Kings College discontinued his studies for a life on the battlefield.

"You sure worry about Alex a lot," Hercules noted.

"Ha! I'm not worried about him."

"Then, why did you join us on this raid? You could've just stayed home."

He sighed. "I-"

_**BAAANG! BAAANG! BAAANG!** _

"Take cover!" Alexander's voice rang throughout the area.

Everyone hurried to take cover behind anything they could see. York and Hercules quickly hid behind one of the cannons.

"Shit!" Hercules cursed as he prepared a musket round.

York lifted his eyes above the cannon. He narrowed his eyes at the harbor, managing to make out a dozen lanterns and the bright red coats of many soldiers from the darkness. He ducked back behind cover. "A barge spotted us!" he yelled above the noise.

**_BAAANG! BAAANG!_ **

He covered his ears as a shot passed over his head. The redcoats shouted profanities. Their shots managed to wound an escalating number of patriots. He looked to Alexander who hid himself behind a stone wall, readying his musket with gunpowder. "What now, Hamilton?"

Alexander gritted his teeth, muttering a curse York couldn't hear from another blast. "Return fire at the lights!" he commanded with grit. "Retreat with the cannons! Use them for cover!" He came up from behind the wall and fired his musket at the incoming barge.

A loud, painful groan echoed from the harbor, followed by a large splash. Upon the gunshot, the patriots returned fire. They were now on the assault.

York didn't think he would use the musket that was strapped across his back. Lucky for him, the hunting trips with his bosses were going to be useful for today. Yet, he still couldn't believe what he was doing. He slowly prepared a musket round and took aim at the barge. He hesitated for a moment, feeling his breath grow cold, his hands shakingly close to the trigger. A bunch of faces flashed in his eyes. England... America... His people... The redcoat he was aiming at...

The guilt he was expecting after making his shot didn't last for long.

"Come on!" Hercules's voice shook him out of his daze. "We need to protect our men if they're going to make it out of here!"

"R-Right!" He gripped his musket tightly.

Together, he and Hercules helped their fellow soldiers. They assisted the injured. They helped pull the cannons. They returned fire at the redcoats, allowing the others to get away from the chaos. Some shots nearly hit them. Weren't for the trees, the bushes, and the shadows, they would've been shot within the first couple of minutes of fighting.

As smoke from their muskets surrounded the harbor in a dusty gray fog, at some point, the world became silent. York and Hercules lowered their weapons.

"Is it over?" York questioned.

"I doubt it," Hercules grumbled.

They looked to the quiet, smoky harbor. York squinted his eyes, pinpointing a bulky shadow behind the ashy fog. As the massive darkness grew closer to shore, he noticed the object had a row of embers lined up along its side. Ten... Twenty... He quickly counted the lights and gasped when he realized what he was seeing.

"Get down!" he yelled.

Hercules's eyes widened when he made out the warship. "Oh, sh-"

_**BOOOM! BOOOM! BOOOM! BOOOM! BOOOM!** _

"GET DOWN!" York tackled him to the ground.

The dark clouds roared like rolling thunder. Men struggled to stand as they fell to the ground, their bodies quaked and their ears rang. Everyone stared up at the smoky sky and watched thirty-two flaming cannonballs launch over the island. One cannonball struck the ground twenty feet ahead of York and Hercules. Another cannonball smashed through the trees, leaving a dent in the trunk of a giant oak. A couple of cannonballs hit the roofs of the nearby buildings. The destruction was followed by the echoed screams of panic flooding the streets. It was a sight York could never forgive.

"Damn it!" he cursed at the warship. "Are you out of your bloody minds?"

_**BAAANG! BAAANG!** _

Their shock was short-lived. The redcoats resumed their barrage of bullets. Hercules and York quickly got up and returned fire, using up what was left of their ammo.

"Mulligan! Mulligan!"

Hercules and York recognized the voice and hurried back to the Battery.

Alexander was helping a group pull a cannon out of the Battery. He saw Hercules and York and ran up to him. "We need a distraction!"

"I'm out of ammo," said Hercules.

Alexander cursed. "Take this!" He handed him his musket. "Keep firing at them while they get the cannon out of here!"

"Yes, sir!"

He turned to York. "You. Come with me."

York followed him. "What do you want me to do?"

Alexander counted the cannons that were left in the Battery. "One, two, three, four... Damn it!" He gritted his teeth. "Help me pull this cannon." He grabbed a rope.

"Yes, sir!" York helped Alexander pull the cannon out of the Battery. He cursed under his breath as he mustered with all his strength to pull over three thousand pounds of pure firepower. "Fuck! Why are these damn things so heavy?" His hands turned red from rope burn.

"Probably because they're made out of iron," he joked.

_**BOOOM! BOOOM! BOOOM!** _

More cannonballs flew above them.

"We already got twenty cannons! Let's cut our losses with this one before we get our heads blown off!" York shouted over the explosions.

"Don't be ridiculous!" he scoffed. "I already told you! Every single cannon counts! This cannon will mean the difference between us and them!"

"The difference I'm seeing are sixty-four cannons against our slow, defenseless asses!"

"We can't give up now! Have some faith, and we'll survive this!"

He groaned, "You're a pain in the ass!"

_**BOOOM! BOOM! BOOOM!** _

"Sorry! Can't hear you!"

"I said you're a pain in the ass!"

_**BOOOM! BOOOM! BOOOM!** _

"What? Speak louder!"

"We're going to get fucking killed in this fiery shitstorm because your dumb ass signed up for this damn bullshit!"

**_BOOOM! BOOOM! BOOOM!_ **

"What? Can you repeat that?" Alexander smirked.

"JIJ DOMME KLOOTZAK (YOU STUPID BASTARD)!" he swore in Dutch.

Somehow, by the power of York's coarse, yet entertaining rant, they managed to meet up with the rest of the militia without a cannonball to the gut. They were met by cheers as everyone helped them pull the cannon to the finish line.

Hercules ran up to Alexander and York to see how they were doing. "Are you two alright?"

"Fine, fine, yes!" York huffed. "Everything is all fine here! Just a normal walk through cannonballs and bullets! No big deal!"

Alexander slightly hid behind Hercules. "I think I pissed him off," he giggled.

As much as he wanted to have a laugh with his friend, they weren't out of the woods just yet.

"Are we heading back to get the other three?" questioned of the volunteers.

Alexander shook his head. "Not enough time to return for them. For now, we should focus on getting these cannons out of here."

"Yes, sir!"

"And Mulligan."

"Yes, Hamilton?"

"Can I have my musket back?"

"Uh..." He scratched the back of his head. "It was empty, and I was returning fire, so I left it in the Battery."

"Oh. Okay." Alexander turned back to the Battery.

"Wait a minute!" York grabbed his arm. "You're seriously going back there?"

"Yeah. My musket is back there."

"You know what's also back there? Death!"

The young man looked at the southern tip, showing no concern to the shouts, the shots, and the booms from the enemy. He looked back at York with an optimistic smile on his face. "I'll make it."

"Alex-"

He ran off.

"Alexander!"

Hercules placed a hand on his shoulder, preventing York from going after him. "I think he'll be alright."

York scowled. "We should stop him before he gets shot out there."

"You know he won't come back until he gets musket back."

"But..." Once he thought about it, he knew he was right. He reluctantly relented and expelled a tired sigh, done with the shit he had done and seen. "I expect Alexander to be paying for drinks after the shit fest we just went through."

"By Alexander, you mean me." Hercules smirked. "I think we all deserve drinks after tonight. Anyway, thanks for looking out for Alex for me."

"It's not like I have a choice on the matter," he grumbled.

"Is that your excuse? Alex told me you volunteered despite being a 'self-proclaimed neutralist'."

"Well, this is a one-time thing." He sullenly stared back at the smoky warship in the harbor. "... Then again, I might not be able to hold that title for very long," he mumbled to himself.

About five minutes later, Alexander came running back to them with a musket in hand. "See!" He panted. "Told you I would make it."

York gave him a stern look. "I don't care if you're capable of handling yourself. But if you do something like that ever again, don't expect me to show up at your funeral."

He grinned. "I can't make that promise, but I can treat you to a couple of drinks at the tavern."

"By I, he means us." Hercules was quick to correct him.

"Yeah. What he said." He nodded his head.

York sighed. "Let's get these damn cannons uptown first before we celebrate over the crime we just committed."

"YEAH!" the militia cheered.

After a successful raid of twenty-one cannons at the Battery, the New York patriots celebrated their victory at a tavern. Bottles of wine were drank until empty. Glasses of whiskey were refilled over and over again. Despite the foreboding presence of war coming their way, the militia at this point were confident of their future ahead of them. For America, they sang the story of tonight.

☆☆☆☆☆

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ On August 23, 1775, Alexander Hamilton, Hercules Mulligan, and a group of volunteers raided the Battery on Manhattan Island's southern tip. By the end of the raid, the revolutionaries managed to get twenty-one out of the twenty-four cannons in the Battery with few casualties on their side, an impressive feat that elevated Hamilton as a leader in the American Revolutionary War.
> 
> \- According to Mulligan's account on the raid: "I was engaged in hauling off one of the cannons, when Mister Hamilton came up and gave me his musket to hold and he took hold of the rope.... Hamilton [got] away with the cannon. I left his musket in the Battery and retreated. As he was returning, I met him and he asked for his piece. I told him where I had left it and he went for it, notwithstanding the firing continued, with as much concern as if the [Asia] had not been there."
> 
> \+ The title for this episode was based on a line in song called "Right Hand Man" from "Hamilton: An American Musical". The song itself was a summary of events happening in New York during the American Revolution. "Yo, let's steal their cannons" is a reference to a raid that took place in 1775; not 1776 as stated by the musical. No, I wouldn't fault the musical for this error. If anything, I was impressed the creator referenced it in a song rather than forego it as some minor skirmish.


	24. Four Corners, Four Bodies

~

"Huh? Where am I?" Arizona groggily blinks her eyes. She quickly shields them from a bright light.

"Hello, Arizona," a deep, holy voice echoes.

She lowers her arms and gasps at the sight of a familiar figure. "God?" She groans, "Was I even close?"

God quirks a brow. "You weren't jumping over the Grand Canyon."

"I wasn't? ... Huh." She frowns. "Then, why am I in heaven? Did my tarantula bite me again?"

He shakes his head. "The reason you're here is because of a wish you want granted."

"A wish?" She tries to recall the wish she made. "Um... What wish was that?" 

"You wished to be a handsome man."

"... What? Hang on. I didn't wish to be... Oooh! Actually, you got it all wrong."

"What do you mean? I'm never wrong."

She giggles, "It's okay. Not everyone is perfect."

"But... I'm God." He frowns.

"You misunderstand. I don't wish to be a dude. I actually wish to have a dick."

God makes a strange face. "Isn't that the same thing?"

"No! It's not the same thing!" she loudly exclaims, startling God himself. "Being a dude and having a dick are totally different! Being a dude means being unable to fit into my clothes and having to deal with all that facial hair and hairy legs. Which sucks literal balls! Having a dick, on the other hand, means I get to keep wearing my cool clothes and not have to deal with being a sasquatch for the rest of my life. In addition to that, I'll be able to pee anywhere without having to pull my pants down. Like, can you imagine painting your name with your own dick? Like, think of the possibilities!"

God is at a loss for words. "I..." He pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. "It has been done."

"Wait. What do you-"

God snaps his fingers, and she disappears a split second later.

☆☆☆☆☆

Arizona gasps awake. "-mean? ... Huh?" She rubs her neck, unsure what to make with the sudden change in her voice. 'Why do I sound... familiar?' She frowns.

She looks around, quickly realizing she isn't in her room. It's actually someone else's room, someone she's quite familiar with. With that in mind, a strange possibility forms in her head. If that dream with God is real, then that means...

She hurries to the bathroom. She flips on the lights and comes face to face with New Mexico. To be precise, a mirror image of the Land of Enchantment. She doesn't move. She screams.

"HOLY SHIT!" She feels her face. Or, his face...? What the fuck is going on?

"Why am I controlling New Mexico's body? Why am I here?" She stares at the mirror, pinching her cheek to make sure this is real; not a dream. "Holy fuck. I can't believe this."

Many things are going through her mind. So many questions, so many things she wants to do. Not only because she's a guy, but also because she has her brother's body. The things she can do with his body... The things she can get away with. She snickers at these diabolic possibilities.

"I wonder..." A smirks grows on her face when she looks down her pants.

~ Hetalia! ~

Somewhere, in the middle of nowhere, there's a place where anyone can be in four states at once. For a few people, it's a place where they meet up for serious business. And this dire situation is one of those times.

"Utah!"

"Actually, I'm Colorado."

"Colorado? But you look like Utah."

"Yeah. I'm in Utah's body for the time being," says Colorado. "I'm guessing you're New Mexico."

"Y-Yeah," New Mexico awkwardly shifts his feet. Or, Colorado's considering he's in his body. "I'm guessing Utah is in-"

"COLORADOOOOO!" Utah in Arizona's body runs crying to Colorado. Or, New Mexico to be precise. Darn, this is already confusing...

"Arizona! I-I mean, Utah! Are you okay?"

"No, I'm not okay! I think God is punishing me for drinking too much soda lately." He turns his head around and stares wide-eyed at his body waving back at him. "Is the Devil possessing my body?"

"No, no! That's Colorado."

"Colorado? Then who..." He stares wide-eyed at Colorado's body. "Are you a demon?"

"Get a grip!" He shakes him out of confusion. "I'm New Mexico! All of us just switched bodies."

Utah backs away from both of them. "A-Am I... being punished for my sins?" He looks about ready to faint.

"Dude, get a hold of yourself," says Colorado.

Utah takes two steps back away from him. "Stay away from me doppelgänger!"

"Dude, chill out. I'm not going to fucking kill you."

"Language!"

New Mexico groans.,"Stop it, you guys!" Both Colorado and Utah turn their attention back to him. "I think I know what happened."

"You better," Utah sniffles. "My head hurts for some reason."

"I think you're having a hangover," Colorado points out.

"A h-hangover! I don't even drink beer!"

"Well, you're in Arizona's body, so..."

"If this counts as a sin, I'm going to be super mad."

"By the way, what's it like having boobs?"

"Terrible," he huffs upset. "This headache sucks. I can feel her sins crawling along my back. I hate it."

"Guys, we're getting off topic," New Mexico interrupts. "I think the reason we're all like this is because of that spell book Arizona ordered off Craigslist."

"Really? She actually casted a spell." Colorado recalls the party the four had yesterday. "I thought it was all gibberish."

"Apparently not."

"So, it's all her fault," Utah grumbles.

"By the way, did you find the spell book she used to cast the spell?"

Colorado nods. "It's in my car." He looks around the area. "Where is she? I thought we texted her to meet us here."

New Mexico groans upset. "Out of the four of us, I bet all my money she's having fun with this body switching fiasco." He shivers at the thought of her using his body for unspeakable things.

"So, what are we going to do? Even if Arizona shows up, she probably doesn't know how to undo this spell. This spell may be permanent for all I know."

"Please don't tell me I'm going to be stuck being a girl forever," Utah worries at such a possibility.

"I mean, Arizona's body can't be all that bad."

"Easy for you to say. It's not like your- I mean, it's not like  _my_  body is filled with drugs, alcohol, and a bunch of venom from the desert. You should be happy I actually take care of my body. Unlike her..." he grumbles.

"Being in your body feels great," Colorado laughs.

"Don't put it that way!"

New Mexico sighs. "While you guys argue, I'm going to Arizona's- I mean, my house to see if Arizona is there."

"We're coming with you!" The two follow him.

~ Hetalia! ~

Arizona whistles to herself while "painting" an abbreviation of her name on a sandstone wall. Unfortunately, she runs out of "wet paint" in midst of making a 'z'. She frowns at the unfinished 'A7' on the wall.

"Hm." She peers down at the "brush" in her hands. "Maybe it would've been easier if I had a larger-"

_**Bweep! Bip! Bip! Bweep!** _

Arizona turns her head and sees a cop coming out of their car. "Oh, shit!" She zips up her fly.

"Freeze! Put your hands behind your back!"

"Ssssshhhhiiiiittt!" She runs for her life.

"Stop!"

"Crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap!" She sprints down the street.

Just as she's about to turn a corner, a van pulls up beside the road. The door opens, and she recognizes her friends in the vehicle. Without saying a word, she leaps inside. The door closes behind her.

"Go, go, go!" Colorado shouts.

New Mexico steps on the pedal and drives off, leaving the cop with its fumes. The last thing the cop sees is New Mexico (Arizona) flipping them off.

"Hahahahahaha!" she laughs. "That was freaking awesome! I can't believe we actually-"

"What did you do?" New Mexico glares at her. Or, himself... Again, this is really confusing.

"Relax, Colorado-"

"I'm not Colorado. I'm your brother."

"Really?"

"One of your dumb spells actually worked," Utah, in Arizona's body, grumbles.

She stares at Utah/her body with large eyes. "Daaamn! I look good."

"Please watch your language."

"Sooo," she stares at her body, "you're Utah. My brother is in Colorado's body. And Colorado is in Utah's body. So, this is like an foursome without the sex."

"Basically," Colorado agrees with that assessment.

"No, it isn't like that," Utah huffs. "Your body is an evil cesspool of sin. I demand to be back in the safe temple that is my personal body as soon as possible."

"Geez, my body isn't that bad."

"You should be ashamed of yourself for putting us in this situation."

"Why should I be ashamed of myself? If anything, I'm happy one of those darn spells actually worked. At least I didn't get ripped off."

"Arizona. Why was that cop chasing you?" New Mexico questions.

"Uh, none of our business."

"Arizona," he grumbles.

"It's no big deal."

"It kinda is."

"Well... I might've made some art the cop didn't like. I mean, everyone has their own tastes. Not judging."

"What kind of art did you make?"

"Uh..."

"Arizona."

"I mean, it's quite close to being called a 'master-pee-ce'." She rubs her nose.

"What?"

"Made by the one and only 'Pee-caso'. Ey?"

"Arizona!" He finally gets the crude joke.

"What? It would've been perfect if your teenie-weenie brush didn't run out of paint."

Colorado bursts out laughing.

"ARIZONA!" New Mexico fumes.

"We're all going to H-E double hockey sticks, aren't we?" Utah groans upset.

~ Hetalia... ~

"So, can you fix them?" America asks England.

England analyzes the task at hand. Arizona, Colorado, New Mexico, and Utah stand in front of both countries, awkwardly praying there's a way to undo the body swapping spell. If not, they're screwed.

He flips through the pages of the spellbook Arizona purchased online. "How the bloody hell did you get this book? I only seen two others like this in my entire life."

Arizona shrugs. "I mean, it's Craigslist. You can pretty much find anything on that site."

He flips through the pages of the spellbook. "Before I undo this spell, are you sure you and your friends are the only ones who participated in this spell?"

"Absolutely!" the four states answer simultaneously.

He scowls. "Alrighty then." He gets up from his seat. "I'll reverse the effects of this spell. In exchange, I'll be keeping the spellbook from now on."

"But I paid- Mmrgh!"

"Good. This won't happen ever again." New Mexico smiles while covering her mouth.

"You're just angry cuz you have a small wiener," she snickers.

"It's not because it's small! I'm angry because you made me a wanted sex offender!" He scolds her in a passionate fit of rage while Colorado and Utah watch the siblings argue as usual.

"Were your states always this strange?" England questions.

"Yep." America doesn't even try to make an excuse for his states' behavior. I mean, this isn't the first time his states have gotten in trouble, nor is it going to be their last.

☆☆☆☆☆

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ The Four Corners is a region within the United States consisting of four states: the northeastern corner of Arizona, the northwestern corner of New Mexico, the southwestern corner of Colorado, and the southeastern corner of Utah. Due to the way the borders are drawn, there's a place the corners meet where a person can stand and claim they're in four states at once. That place is the Four Corners Monument. Despite its isolated location, some tourists go there to take pictures of themselves, their friends, and their families being at that specific spot.
> 
> \- In Hetalia 50 States fanfiction, the Four Corners gang is probably one of the better known groups that feature four members. Most of the fanfiction and headcanons I see usually involve trios where states share something in common. While I can see a few groups among my OCs, I have yet to make them 'official' within my fanfiction. Without a doubt, the Four Corners Gang will have more appearances in this series.


	25. Pączki Day & Pancake Day

~

For many Christians around the world, Lent is a ritual fasting in relation to Jesus Christ's forty-day journey across desert. It's a time when many individuals repent for their sins, give to the community, pray to God, and abstain from mortal pleasures. One such pleasure is the indulgence of rich foods such as those made from milk, eggs, butter, sugar, and fat. As such, many individuals try to rid themselves of such luxury the day before Lent. That day is known by many names: Shrove Tuesday, Fat Tuesday, Pancake Day, Mardi Gras, etc. To many Christians, it's the last time to indulge oneself in extravagance.

For others, Shrove Tuesday is an excuse to party and get fat.

But for one small town in Kansas, they're losing a few calories first before fattening themselves with pancakes.

"Wooo! My body is ready!" America hops up and down, getting himself hyped/warmed up before the start of the International Pancake Day Race.

"Bollocks. I should've raced back at home instead," England grumbles while stretching his legs, withstanding the below freezing temperatures of the American Midwest.

As per tradition, both countries are wearing aprons. In their hands are skillets with a pancake in each pan. The finish line is about 415 yards away. All they have do is be the quickest person to reach the end with their pancakes still in the pan. A strange tradition this competition may be, but it's a whole lot of fun. It also brings both countries closer together.

Standing along the street in the snow, Kansas prepares the starting pistol. "We'll now begin the International Pancake Day Race!" she shouts. "Is everyone ready?"

"Totally!"

"Whenever you're ready, love."

She beams. "On your mark..."

Both countries ready themselves at the starting line.

America's stomach grumbles. "Aw, man. I shouldn't have ate two stacks of pancakes."

England snickers, "Looks like you doomed your chances on winning this race."

"Get set..." Kansas raises her pistol in the air.

"At least I'm not an old fart who can't swim."

"I can swim! And I'm not that old!"

"You're definitely old, dude."

"Shut up!"

_**Bang!** _

"Go!"

Both countries take off down the street, determined to be the first to cross the finish line.

☆☆☆☆☆

While the International Pancake Race is going on, there are other celebrations going on around the world. For one group of Midwestern states, they're celebrating Pączki Day.

Pączki Day? What's that? Wisconsin, can you tell us what Pączki Day is?

"Sure thing!" She smiles. "Before I explain the celebration, I want to quickly explain what pączki are." She brings out a pointing stick and points at a picture being projected onto a whiteboard.

"These are pączki. They're commonly pronounced 'POONCH-key' in its plural form. In its singular form, it's called pączek (PONT-chek). With that out of the way, what are pączki? Well, in simple terms, they're Polish jelly donuts. But don't be fooled! In no way do they taste anything like local donut shop jelly donuts. Like, look!" She clicks the pointer, changing the image.

"Unlike traditional jelly donuts, pączki are much richer and much more dense than jelly donuts. Of course, that means they're twice as loaded with calories. Even so, they're so delicious! I mean, they come in a wide variety of flavors. Traditional pączki are typically filled with plum or rosehip jam, but other variants include various fruit jams, custards, and creams. Some bakeries make fancy kinds like the picture I'm showing you. Overall, these pastries are quite a big deal with many of my friends." She giggles, "We love them so much, we have dedicated this episode to making them."

_Lights! Camera! Action!_

The walls of the room give away, revealing a live studio audience surrounding four cooking stations.

Wisconsin stands in the middle of the spotlight, smiling and waving at the audience. "Hello, folks! Welcome to the first pączki-making contest! I'm your host, Wisconsin. Today, four contestants are competing to make the best pączki to impress our judges in the hopes of being crowned the unofficial title as the Pączki State."

The audience cheer.

~ Hetalia! ~

"Before we begin, let's meet our contestants."

The camera pans over to the first cooking station. "Yo! I'm Illinois! I love eating pączki! I love them so much, I can eat a dozen in a single day so long as they have my favorite filling: apple jam." He smiles. "I've never made pączki in my life. But you know what, there's always a first time for everything. So, I'm looking forward to seeing this through to the end."

The crowd applaud in support of his charisma.

The camera moves over to the second cooking station. "Um.. The name's Indiana..." She awkwardly waves at the camera. "I'm kinda forced to do this competition because Illinois thought it would be fun even though I never made pączki in my life. So, yeah..." She blinks her eyes at Minnesota mouthing something to her from behind the camera. "My favorite filling? Uh... Vanilla custard is pretty good."

The crowd applaud in support of her indifference.

The camera heads over to the third cooking station. "What's up, guys! I'm Michigan, and I'm an expert when it comes to pączki. Every year, I host a pączki parade as big as St. Patrick's Day! Without a doubt, I'm going to crush the competition with my pączki-making skills! Yeah!" She raises her fist in the air. "I love all pączki flavors. But my absolute favorite is cherry jam. Who's with me?"

The crowd applaud in support of her passion.

The camera zooms over to the fourth cooking station. "Hey, guys! I'm Ohio. I don't mean to brag, but my pączki are the best." He ignores Michigan's sarcastic laughter in the background. "I've prepared weeks in advance for this competition. Overall, I hope to impress the judges with my chocolate and peanut butter pączki."

The crowd applaud in support of his confidence.

The camera returns back to Wisconsin. "Now that we've met our contestants, let's meet our judges for today's competition."

The camera pans over to a panel of judges.

"Our first judge is a New Yorker who's very familiar with pączki in addition to all sorts of cuisine from around the world. Ladies and gentlemen, give it up for New York."

The audience applaud.

"I'm a busy man, so this better not take too much of my time," says New York with an eye on his smartwatch.

Wisconsin nonchalantly smiles. "Our second judge is also a pączki lover. His favorite is maple bacon with a side of Tim Hortons coffee. Ladies and gentlemen, give it up for Ontario."

The audience applaud.

"Obviously, I'm the real winner when it comes to making pączki, so I'm not expecting anything special coming out of the kitchen." Ontario smirks with his eyes on a certain contestant.

Michigan growls, "You want something special? How about I make pączki with your blood!" Illinois and Indiana hold the Michigander back from getting disqualified before the start of the competition.

Wisconsin quickly moves the show along. "A-Alright, folks! Our third judge is from the country where pączki originated from. Ladies and gentlemen, give it up for Poland."

The audience applaud.

Poland makes a grandiose bow while waving at the studio audience. "Oh my God! This is, like, so exciting. Thanks for having me here."

The audience continues to applaud.

The camera returns back to Wisconsin. "Now that the judges have been introduced, I'll explain the rules." She gestures to the clock above her. "Our contestants will have ninety minutes to make a batch of pączki for our judges to taste. They have the option to make their pączki in any flavor so long as it's consistent among the batch. Powdered sugar, icing, glaze, and orange zest are an option. Overall, the goal is to have fun and make the best pączki in the world."

The crowd applaud.

"With that in mind, let the competition begin!"

~ Hetalia! ~

After spending over a hour prepping their fillings and waiting for the dough to rise, all four stations are now going to fry their round, doughy patties in oil until they turn a golden brown color. Unfortunately, not everyone's pączki can turn out perfect.

"Aw, fuuuuck!" Illinois curses at the three foot pillar of fire erupting from his cooking pot. "Does anyone know where the fire extinguisher is?"

While Illinois is panicking over his Chicago fire, Indiana is still trying to figure out how to cook her pączki in oil. She stares down at the pot in a quizzical manner. "Is the temperature too high?" She turns a knob on the stove.

Ohio snickers at the incompetent competitors, confident on winning this contest without a doubt. "Looks like I got this in the bag."

_Sizzle!_

His nose twitches in response to an unusual smell. He looks over at Michigan's cooking station and cocks his head at what she's doing. "Is that a hamburger patty?"

Michigan gives him a defensive glare. "Yeah. Got a problem with that?" She flips the patty in the pan.

"Uh, yeah. This is a pączki making contest; not a grill off."

"Mind your own business."

He raises his hands in defense. "Whatever. My pączki are going to turn out better than what you're making."

She scoffs, "Yeah, right. Your pączki taste like spongy horse tesitcles."

"Well, your pączki taste like an orangutan's saggy butt cheeks."

"No, they don't! They taste of natural love and sweet victory!"

"Yeah. My sweet victory."

The audience ooh in suspense.

She grits her teeth. "You know what's also sweet?" She grabs a handful of cherries from a bowl. "This!" She throws them at him.

"Hey! Knock it off!" He shields himself with a metal bowl. "You're getting them into my chocolate bowl!"

"Eat cherry bombs, loser!" She hurls cherries at him. She even throws leftover cherry pits at him.

"Stop that! Cut it out!" He looks over at Wisconsin. "Disqualify her! Disqualify her!"

Unfortunately, Wisconsin is too busy talking with Poland to notice, leaving him to defend his station on his own.

~ Hetalia... ~

"Time's up, folks!" Wisconsin announces. "We'll now begin judging. First contestant, you're up."

Illinois gloomily presents three plates in front of the judges. All three judges don't look impressed.

New York taps the pączek's hard, black surface. He looks at the camera in disgust. "Are you kidding me? Do I... Do I have to eat this?" The camera nods up and down. "Get out of here! I'm not breaking my teeth."

Ontario takes a knife and cuts open the pączki. "At least the interior isn't burnt," he sorta says it as a positive.

"Why am I being served charcoal?" Poland complains.

Illinois scowls. "I get it. My pączki suck. Can I head back to my station in shame?"

"Be my guest." Wisconsin smiles as Illinois sulks back to his cooking station.

Up next to present their pączki is Indiana. She carries her plates over to the judges. On the outside, the pączki don't look burnt.

New York takes a bite and immediately spits it out. "It's raw!"

"You should've increased the temperature," says Ontario as he cuts open the pączki, revealing the gooey center.

"At least the vanilla custard is delicious." Poland sucks on a finger.

"Um, thanks for trying it. I guess..." Indiana awkwardly walks back to her cooking station.

Next up, it's Michigan's turn to be judged. She brings her three plates and presents them in front of the judges. All three judges give her weird looks for the pączki they were expecting isn't ordinary.

"What is this?" Poland stares at the dish in disbelief.

Michigan laughs in confidence. "Judges, what you're seeing is no ordinary pączki. This is what I call a pączki cheeseburger."

"I see..." New York stares at the pączki buns. He's used to seeing weird combinations of food in his home, however, he's quite unsure what to make of this one. He decides to shrug off his worries and take a bit out of the burger. He hums in amazement. "Sweet and savory. A bit greasy, but this combination actually works," he admits.

Ontario looks at New York in surprise. "No way. It can't be that good." He takes a bite out of his burger. His eyes grow wide with an audible yum in his moan. Michigan's arrogant smirk snaps him out his foodgasm. "W-Well, it isn't that bad. Quite a unique take on the pączek I'll say that much." He wipes his mouth with a napkin.

Poland crosses his arms. "I refuse to eat it."

Michigan's jaw drops to the floor. "Why not?"

"Um, Mr. Poland," Wisconsin whispers over to him. "You need to try the dish. You're a judge after all."

He shakes his head. "There's no way my stomach can handle that. One bite will, like, totally make me sick."

She sighs in defeat. "Alright... Well, we need to keep this show going."

"But! He didn't even-" Illinois and Indiana pull Michigan away before she could fight Poland.

Last to present their pączki is Ohio. He wears an irksome smile when he presents his pączki to the judges. All three judges eat his pączki without a problem.

"Perfect golden color. Cooked all the way through. The texture is quite nice, but," New York frowns, "why is there no filling?"

"Well, I would've filled the pączki with chocolate and peanut butter weren't for a particular demonic troll getting in the way."

The camera cuts to Michigan's shameless face.

Ontario finishes the pączki with a disappointed sigh. "It's good, but I was really hoping to try the chocolate and peanut butter filling."

"Me, too," Poland agrees. "This is what I call a good pączki. Like, it's not perfect by all means, but it's definitely average. I give it a passing grade. Not an 'A' though."

Ohio bows his head. "Alright. Thanks for tasting my pączki." He heads back to his cooking station.

The camera comes back to Wisconsin's cheerful face. "Okay, folks. We'll let the judges think about the pączki they tasted, so they can decide on a winner for this year's contest after this commercial break."

~ Hetalia! ~

Illinois, Indiana, Michigan, and Ohio stand in front of the stage, awaiting Wisconsin as she prepares to announce the winner.

"Welcome back, folks!" She waves at the camera. "After fives minutes of discussion, our judges finally decided on the winner. So, drum roll please."

The studio lights dim as drums from a speaker escalate in anticipation of the winner of this contest. A single spotlight whirls between the contestants.

Wisconsin calmly breathes. "The winner of this year's pączki making contest is..." The spotlight disappears. "... Poland!"

The spotlight appears above Poland.

"WHAT?!" All four contestants gape in shock.

"Oh my God! Like, I shouldn't be surprised, but this is freaking amazing." Poland smiles and waves at the audience and the camera. He's presented a golden crown and a golden pączki trophy.

"He wasn't even a contestant!" Ohio protests.

Wisconsin shrinks away from their fury. "W-Well, Poland made some pączki prior to this contest. Both New York and Ontario agreed his pączki were way better than all yours."

"I mean," Indiana sighs, "fair point."

"His pączki were definitely better than the rocky turds I made," Illinois mutters in agreement.

"Still!" Michigan shouts. "This contest was between the four of us. I should've been the winner!"

Ohio stares wide-eyed at her. "What? No way! I should've been the winner. If you hadn't poisoned my chocolate, I would've definitely been crowned the winner."

"Those plain buns were just good. My pączki burger was actually unique and amazing."

"Poland refused to try the Frankenstein you created."

"If he did, he would've loved it."

"No, he would've died."

"If he did, he would've went straight to heaven."

"You mean hell."

"How about I send you to hell instead?"

"Get away from me, you demon!" He runs away from the Wolverine State.

"Wanna get some pączki?" Illinois asks Indiana, unperturbed by Ohio's cries for help.

She shrugs. "I'm down for anything that's not raw or burnt."

"Ditto."

"G-Guys! Can I come, too? Ow!"

"Hahahahaha! I'm done with you yet!"

"Lord have mercy!"

Wisconsin smiles back at the camera. "You heard them, folks! Get yourself some tasty pączki. As I always like to say, have a fat-tastic Shrove Tuesday!"

☆☆☆☆☆

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ The International Pancake Day Race originated in England, specifically in the town of Olney. In 1455, an Englishwoman from Olney was making pancakes on Shrove Tuesday when she heard the church bells rang. Not wanting to miss church service, she ran to church in an apron while flipping a pancake in a frying pan. Consequently, her rush to church inspired an iconic tradition where women on Shrove Tuesday race in aprons while flipping a pancake in a pan.
> 
> \- In 1950, the town of Liberal, Kansas got wind of the Olney Pancake Race. They challenged Olney to see who among the two could finish a race in the fastest time. Thus, the International Pancake Race between the two towns was born. While it's true only women are allowed to participate in the International Pancake Race, there are separate races for men and children so no one won't miss out on the fun.
> 
> \+ Pączki Day in the United States is typically celebrated on Shrove Tuesday. The pączek's popularity in America is thanks to Polish immigrants who migrated to urban areas in the Midwest and the Northeast, bringing their recipes such as pączki with them. The pastry is incredibly loaded with calories, yet its scrumptious taste continues to attract many people to eat them up before Lent.
> 
> \- Pączki are so iconic, many cities in America have made the pastry an extravagant affair. In Michigan for example, many cities host festivals, eating contests, and parades in honor of the sweet treat. To anyone who doesn't mind gaining a few calories, feel free to get yourself a pączek while it's fresh.


	26. It's Raining Potatoes!

~

Idaho stares down at the miserable citizens of the land from the mountain he stands on, wondering how they can go through their boring lives without experiencing the joy that is the potato.

Oh, the beautiful, brown beauty known as  _Solanum tuberosum_. Fuck corn, fuck wheat, and fuck rice! Weren't for the potato, many people would suffer from famine. Weren't for the potato, many recipes wouldn't have been born. Weren't for the potato, Mr. Potato Head would just be Mr. Head. And that would be sad. Very sad indeed.

Idaho can go on how wonderful the glorious potato is, but he rather show than tell everyone why they should worship a brown, beautiful spud. He brings up a spellbook in his hands, one he had purchased off Craigslist. Sure, he doesn't believe in magic and the occult. But the person on the site claims there is a spell within this ancient book that can summon anything. Anything. So, why not test that claim?

He places the perfect potato at the center of the summoning circle. Once that's done, he flips through the pages of the spellbook and finds the spell he wants to try out. He memorize the words and places the book down on the ground. He raises his hands up toward the gray sky. Out loud, he boldly chants, "Deus rusticae summon thy pluvia y snow! Mundus eorum pubesco apud potato!"

The skies darken and rumble in response. He watches the roaring clouds in anticipation for what may come. Falling from the sky, behold, a rainstorm of potatoes!

"Holy taters! That actually worked!" he exclaims in excitement. He grabs a couple of potatoes from the air. "Yes! Yes! Ahahahaha! The potato apocalypse is here! Hahahahaha!" He dances around the summoning circle while potatoes continue to fall all around him.

☆☆☆☆☆

"Gotta lose all this pączki weight," Indiana pants.

After jogging around the park for about ten minutes, she decides to take a break by the creek. While drinking a bottle of water, she notices a round object flowing down the current. She manages to pick it right out of the water. She makes a weird face.

'Did someone lose their potato?' she ponders.

Her eyes widen when she spots another potato floating in the river. She finds another. And then another. And another after that one. She count as many as thirty potatoes going down the river. Unless a farmer's truck crashed upriver, where were all these potatoes coming from?

"What is going- Aaaaah!" A barrage of potatoes fall on her head.

She runs off to find shelter with many questions on her mind.

~ Hetalia? ~

It's another cold day at Iowa's home. Cold weather means no corn which is very depressing for him. He stares out the window with a bowl full of popcorn, unhappily watching the snow pile on top of his barren farm.

"Why can't spring come sooner?" he whines. "I really want to start farming right away."

_Ka-plunk!_

He looks up at the ceiling in confusion.

_Ka-plunk! Ka-plunk!_

He looks out the window and sees a hundred potatoes fall like meteorites across his farm. He doesn't know what to make of this strange phenomenon.

"God, I know you mean well, but can it be cobs of corn instead?"

~ Hetalia... ~

"Heheheheh..." New Jersey snickers while writing a short message on a spud. He places the spud in a giant bag and hands it to the delivery man at his doorway. "Remember to ring his doorbell every fifteen minutes," he reminds them before handing them the money.

The delivery man slings the bag over his shoulder. "All one hundred potatoes for that one address?" He adjusts his hat.

"Yep!" New Jersey grins with mischief from ear to ear.

~ Hetalia! ~

"Breaking news!" A reporter appears on the TV screen. "This is P.B. Jefferson reporting for today's afternoon news. Scientists may have possibly figured out why potatoes are falling from the sky across North America. Before we get to them, we'll turn to our meteorologist, Henry Jefferson, who's reporting live on this strange phenomenon."

New York watches the reporters on his flat screen TV make any sense of this weird weather. "So, I wasn't going crazy from work." He sits back on his couch. "Well, no work for me today."

_Ding-dong!_

His Yorkshire terrier is the first to reach the door, yapping at the sound like mad. New York grumbles curses as he gets up from the couch. He takes a moment to breathe before opening the door. Oh, what a surprise. There's another potato sitting at his door.

He picks up the potato parcel and reads the short message in an annoyed voice, "Taters gonna tate..." He angrily chucks the potato into a bin full of unfunny potato puns. "Who keeps sending me these stupid potatoes?!"

~ Hetalia... ~

"Woohoo!" North Carolina can't hold herself back from shouting in glee. "This is like Easter but in March!"

She quickly gathers all the sweet potatoes that fell from the sky. She drools at the number of recipes she can make with these sweet spuds. Sweet potatoes fries, sweet potato mash, sweet potato pie... Oooh! Sweet potato pie on Pi Day! What a treat!

"This is the best day ever!" she laughs.

~ Hetalia! ~

"What? What do you mean you ran out of potatoes?" Texas questions the food stand. "I thought y'all specialize in tornado potatoes!"

The cook raises his hands in defense. "S-Sorry, ma'am! All our potatoes suddenly disappeared."

"Disappeared?" She scoffs in disbelief, "I-"

"Tex, it's fine," Montana interrupts. "The carnival has plenty of food."

"No, it's not fine! You wanted a tornado potato, and I told you I would get you one. If I had to go to South Korea to get you one, I would. Christ! I would pray for a potato if I could-" A potato lands in Texas's hands. "... What?"

"Did a potato just fall from the sky? Or, am I imagining things?"

Two more potatoes fall around the Western duo. Many rodeo attendees look to the sky, amazed to see more brown spuds land across the carnival fairgrounds.

Texas hands the potato to the cook. "One tornado potato with sausage please."

The cook takes the potato without question. "Any seasoning?"

"Ranch," Montana answers.

"Coming right up."

~ Hetalia? ~

"96... 97... 98... 99..." Oregon stops at the last crate full of potatoes. "And 100 crates full of potatoes!" She beams. "We're going to solve world hunger in no time!"

Washington drives a tractor carrying crates of potatoes. "We can even feed the homeless for weeks. Months even!" he exclaims.

"We may even find an alternate source of energy to fuel our machinery thanks to these potatoes."

"Or medicine!"

The two chatter over the endless possibilities as potatoes continue to fall endlessly from the sky.

~ Hetalia! ~

"Wahahaha!" Idaho maniacally stares down at the potato-covered land. "Relish this day, you sad bastards! From this day onward, everyone must-" A potato hits his cheek. "Ow! What the potato fuck is that?"

"You've gone too far!" Maine appears at the top of the mountain.

He hisses, "How did you find me? You shouldn't be here!"

She crosses her arms. "Stop summoning potatoes, Idaho."

"Why should I?"

"Because your potatoes suck."

He gasps. "Take that back!"

"If it's going to rain potatoes, it should be my potatoes for mine are the best."

"Oh, please! Those moldy lumps of cancer you grow can't compare to the terrifically perfect taste one can get from eating one of my tubers."

"At least my potatoes aren't plagued by pests! Mine have survived many winters, making them more fit to survive onto the warm plates of American dinners for many generations."

"Americans don't give a damn for Maine potatoes! If they want a potato, they get an Idaho potato. Fuck it! When they think of me, they think of potatoes!" He sneers, "Ask an American about Maine potatoes, they'll think you're stupid."

Maine gasps. "W-Well, you know what's also stupid?" She stomps over to the center of the summoning circle. "This!" She kicks the potato off the mountain.

"AAaaaAaaAaaahh! You Mainiac!" Idaho screams. "Mr. Potato! I'll save you!" He leaps off the mountain.

Maine watches Idaho plummet over a thousand feet down the slope. "At least potatoes aren't falling from the sky anymore." She stares back at the empty, gray sky. "... I should really check to see if he's alright." She hurries down the mountain, careful not to trip over the potatoes that are left on the ground.

☆☆☆☆☆

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ Potatoes are Idaho's state vegetable due the state's history of producing vast quantities of high-quality potatoes thanks to its ideal geography. For many people, potatoes are the only thing they know about the state.
> 
> \+ As usual, I made many references within this episode.
> 
> \- Potato Creek State Park is located in Indiana. It was named after tubers growing along the banks of the creek.
> 
> \- Iowa produces the most corn in the United States. I like to think he and Idaho get into fights over their vegetable preferences.
> 
> \- Potato Parcel is a American company that specializes in delivering potatoes with messages on them. Of course, there's a 140 character limit, so don't bother writing an essay on a giant spud.
> 
> \- Sweet potatoes are distantly related to potatoes. They're recognized as the state vegetable of North Carolina.
> 
> \- Tornado potatoes are originally a street food from South Korea. It consists of a potato being cut into a spiral around a skewer and later fried into a crisp. They're usually powdered in various seasonings; sometimes they're wrapped around a sausage. Typically, anyone can find tornado potatoes at small fairs and festivals. I usually get one every year at the Houston Livestock Show & Rodeo in parmesan garlic seasoning, and it's very tasty. I recommend it.
> 
> \- Washington is second among states that produce potatoes. I like to think Washington and Oregon will find a way to use the potatoes they gathered for a good cause.
> 
> \- Even though Maine is mainly known for lobsters and blueberries, the state was once a main producer for potatoes until the 20th century when various states in the West began to produce more potatoes than the state. Nevertheless, Maine is still proud of their potato tradition.


	27. Rainbows are Gay and Irish

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This episode will be mocking a private organization in concern to a 'dumb' decision they made in the past. As such, this episode may seem a bit harsh to some. But by no means does this mean the author necessarily hate the organization. Overall, please don't hate the organization on the basis of this episode at the very least. You've been warned.

****

~

**March 17, 2009 ~ Washington D.C., U.S.A.**

"Green floral centerpieces. Check. Green napkins. Check." Washington D.C. walks through the White House banquet hall with a clipboard in hand.

"Miss Washington!" The First Lady approaches her. "I just have a wonderful idea."

"Can I get back to you later? I'm currently busy with preparations for this evening's event," says D.C. with her eyes on the clipboard.

The First Lady scowls. "Miss Washington."

The serious tone in her voice forces D.C. to give the First Lady her full attention. "My apologies, ma'am. What is this wonderful idea you have?"

She smiles. "As you know, Barack and I won't be able to attend the St. Patrick's Day celebration in Chicago. I've been thinking. What if we bring a bit of Chicago to the White House?"

D.C. makes a weird face. "I don't think anymore corruption is necessary. We already have that."

"No, no, no. I mean, a bit of Chicago tradition. What if we dye the water fountains green?"

"Dye the water fountains greens?"

"Yeah!" She beams. "Like the Chicago River. People will love it."

"Do we even have green dye?" She checks the inventory list.

"Not a problem. I already have someone taking care of it."

Outside the White House, Illinois is pouring green, vegetable dye into one of the fountains. "I have a green thumb, you know." He makes a wink at the camera.

☆☆☆☆☆

**March 8, 2017 ~ Boston, Massachusetts**

"Derpy derp derp! We, the South Boston Allied War Veterans Council, will now begin to consider the late application of OutVets in this year's St. Patrick's Day Parade," says the imbecile at the front of the room.

"OutVets? Aren't they one of the two gay groups we allowed to march at the parade two years ago?" the moron questions.

"Derpy derp yes!" says the dipstick. "I was one of the assholes who voted against their participation. Remember?"

"Oh, yeah! Me, too!" The numbskull nods their head. "I was afraid they would make the parade too sexual for my liking."

"Eeee-aaaah!" the donkey hollers.

"I agree with you, donkey," says the asshat. "I mean, I'm not against gay people. I just don't like involving sexual orientation into this parade."

"I know, right!" the dolt agrees with the asshat. "We're totally fine with hetero guys and girls since they don't show off how straight they are. But gay people! They're gonna make the parade all about them which is totally against our rules."

"Hey! I just realized something!" The idiot points at a picture of OutVets from last year's parade. "Members of the OutVets are wearing," they gasps with bulging eyes, "small, rainbow patches on their clothes!"

Most of the members gasp.

"Unacceptable!" the nincompoop yells. "We can't have them wear rainbows in our parade! The gay overload will cause mass panic on the streets! People will think we're not Irish American!"

Most of the members scream out of fright.

"Um," one of the reasonable members raises their hand, "aren't rainbows a part of Irish culture? Like, Leprechauns and a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow."

"Also, OutVets had previously wore rainbow imagery in the parades they were in. In such instances, they behaved and respected our rules," one of the logical members points out.

The nine fools appear baffled by their reasonable argument.

"You're right. They did sport rainbow in previous parades," the idiot mutters. "... How did we miss that?!"

"What?" The logical person stares at the idiot in disbelief.

The asshat bangs their fist on the table. "Fooled me once and tricked me twice, I won't let the gay, bisexual trans-lesbians get away with a third year!"

"Eeeee-aaaah!"

"Yeah!" the dipstick shouts. "Let's ban them!"

"Um," one of the rational people raises their hand, "I think that's a bad idea."

"Yeah," says one of the tolerant people. "Who cares if they're gay. They're still veterans like us who want to proudly show off their heritage like any Irish American. Plus, I don't think the public will like it if we were ban gay groups again, especially in a city where LGBT individuals are more accepted in this day and age."

"Oh, come on," says the numbskull. "We got away with banning gay groups in 1995. Surely, they'll understand our decision to reintroduce the gay ban isn't an act of discrimination."

"Besides! They already got their own parade in June! No need to be greedy!" says the nincompoop.

"Mm-hm." The moron nods their head. "Our parade, our rules. You either follow them, or you stay out of it."

The imbecile laughs. "Alright. Those in favor of letting OutVets march in the parade raise your hand." Four individuals raise their hands. The imbecile takes note. "Okay. Now, those who are against inviting the OutVets back into the parade raise your hand." Eight individuals raise their hands. "... Alright!" They grin. "Four in favor of OutVets and nine, including myself, against the group. Therefore, OutVets is hereby banned from the St. Patrick's Day Parade!" They bang the gavel.

"Yay!" the fools cheer. "We're assholes!"

The four veterans with common sense frown at the shameful sight. "The media is going to flame our butts for this..."

~ Eeee-aaah! ~

**March 9, 2017 ~ Boston, Massachusetts**

Massachusetts storms through the doors of the meeting room. "WHAT THE FUCK?!" He glares at the members of the South Boston Allied War Veterans Council.

The imbecile cocks their head. "Derpy derp! Are you here to talk about the St. Patrick's Day schedule? Derp derp!"

"No, I'm here to call you guys out on your bullshit!" Massachusetts points at all of them.

"Hahahaha! Have you forgotten? You can't sue us like last time," says the dipstick with a smug smile.

"After all," the numbskull sneers, "our decision falls under the protection of free speech."

He grits his teeth. "True, I admit the council's decisions are protected under the First Amendment. However," he smirks, "you guys forget this isn't 1995."

"W-Why are you smiling?" the dolt nervously questions. "Don't you dare think you can threaten us with violence!"

"Threaten you with violence? Ha!" he scoffs. "Sure, I can't physically force you to change your mind. Not because I'm afraid of getting charged for assault, but because all of you are veterans who I respect as someone who has previously fought in many wars. Of course, that's the only respect you get out of me."

"You can't convince us to change our minds!" the idiot yells.

"Eeee-aaaah! Eeee-aaaah!" the donkey shouts.

"Aw, but they can." Massachusetts reveals the screen of his smartphone.

"What's that?" the moron questions.

"This is Twitter," he explains. "Facebook, Reddit, everyone is talking about your decision. And not in a good way."

The asshat huffs, "So, what? Who cares about a few complainers?" 

"You should care. These 'few' complainers include my boss."

"Y-Your boss?!" the fools exclaim with pale faces.

"My boss, my representatives, my senators, and the Boston Mayor aren't going to attend the parade. Sponsors are dropping out. Participants are cancelling their invitation. No doubt attendees aren't going to watch a parade without seeing a group they feel deserves to march in this parade. If this ban continues, I bet my lucky charms this parade isn't going to be a success."

"Over a gay group? It can't be that low!" the nincompoop cries out.

"It can, and it will. You know why?"

"No, I don't want to know why."

"Because it's 2017."

"NOOOOOOOOO!" they scream.

"That's right, assholes! Discrimination won't' be tolerated, nor will it be permitted without backlash. So, if I were in your position, I rethink what this parade is about."

"B-B-But, OutVets refused to get rid of their rainbows!" the imbecile points out. "We can't allow them to show off their sexuality."

He gives the imbecile a cold glare. "Are you seriously kidding me?"

"I-It's a part of our rules-"

"Screw your rules!" he roars. "If sporting a rainbow isn't allowed, you may as well ban the other groups in this parade!" He clenches a fist. "Rainbows are gay and Irish. The key word being Irish because you forget OutVets are made up of Irish Americans. Irish Americans! Like you guys!"

The fools take a deep gulp.

"Not only are they Irish American, they're also your fellow veterans who fought in America's wars," he points out. "These American veterans who risked their lives to protect American lives and American ideals deserve to be recognized in this parade for they, too, honored their Irish ancestry. To exclude them on the basis of a small, rainbow patch, a rainbow banner, and a rainbow flag is a misdirection to what St. Patrick's Day is all about. The fact all of you, fellow Americans, fellow veterans, and fellow descents of Irish immigrants, turn your backs on not only this group but also many honorable others disappoints me and many Americans who support them."

He shakes his head in disgust. "I honestly thought this organization had moved past bigotry. I honestly thought this organization learned from its mistakes. I honestly thought this organization had broken out from this bubble of outdated beliefs." He stares directly into everyone's eyes. "I'm done with your shit. It's 2017. And it's time you realize that."

Massachusetts stomps out of the room. He slams the door behind him, shaking the silence of the room. Long after his passionate speech, many of the members still finds their eyes on the ground.

"... Told you it was a bad idea," says one of the smartasses.

~ Hetalia! ~

**March 19, 2017 ~ Boston, Massachusetts**

Eventually, the South Boston Allied War Veterans Council reversed the gay ban and allowed OutVets to participate in the parade. The reversal was met by cheers. Many parade goers loudly applauded the OutVets when they marched down the street, their rainbow banners proudly on display for all to see.

Maine waves a miniature, Irish flag. "You did the right thing, Brother."

Massachusetts huffs his chest proudly. "It's a good thing they changed their mind. If they didn't, I would've threw them into the harbor," he laughs.

☆☆☆☆☆

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ On March 17, 2009, the White House began the tradition of dyeing the water fountains green in honor of St. Patrick's Day. First Lady Michelle Obama suggested this idea, inspired by her home city's St. Patrick's Day tradition of adding green dye to the Chicago River.
> 
> \+ The South Boston Allied War Veterans Council has organized most of Boston's St. Patrick's Day Parades since the 20th century. While they're open to hundreds of applicants, they're also known to deny various groups who they think will get in the way of the parade's core message: the celebration of Irish American culture.
> 
> \- Until 2015, the Council forbade gay groups from participating in the parade. LGBT allies such as the Mayor of Boston accused the Council for discrimination. However, the Council's position was backed by the U.S. Supreme Court in the case of "Hurley v. Irish-American Gay, Lesbian, & Bisexual Group of Boston (1995)". Because they were a private organization organizing a public event, they wouldn't be compelled by the state to include groups who impart a message they disagreed with; such a ruling was based on freedom of speech.
> 
> \+ In 2015, the Council allowed the first gay groups to participate in the St. Patrick's Day Parade. One of those groups was OutVets, a veterans group whose members happened to be a part of the LGBT community. Such groups were allowed to march so long as they didn't show obscene symbols of their sexual orientation. OutVets complied, and they even participated in 2016's parade without a problem.
> 
> \- In 2017, the Council initially voted 9-4 against inviting OutVets from participating in the St. Patrick's Day Parade despite no misgivings from the last two celebrations. The main reason for the ban, according to the Council, was the rainbow imagery on the group's flags and banners. They felt that went against their rule on not promoting sexual orientation. As one could guess, public outrage was immense. The Council ended up reversing its decision, allowing OutVets to participate in the parade.
> 
> \+ Honestly, this episode was probably one of the 'angriest' I had written. Looking back on it, it seemed more like satire which wasn't exactly the intent when I wrote this episode. In some ways, I might've went too far and failed to be unbias on the issue. If so, most likely I would edit it or take it down if necessary. Anyway, apologies to those who expected a lighthearted episode.


	28. Cherry Blossoms to Columbia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Attached to the beginning of this episode is some thematic music. Feel free to play it while reading the story. Anyway, continue reading.

~

**April 3, 1885 ~ Tokyo, Japan**

For a long time, Kyoto was the capital of Japan until events in the nineteenth century forced them to retire. Amid the political chaos, the Emperor of Japan chose one city to start anew. That city was Edo. The city was then reborn as Tokyo, inheriting the honorary role of being the national capital of Japan.

Her whimsical atmosphere reminded Washington D.C. of the younger years. D.C. recalled such memories while she and the Japanese capital strolled down the spring path, wearing komon kimonos in navy blue and cherry blossom pink respectively. To be honest, she expected Tokyo to be some sort of ancient figure of great wisdom. After all, Edo was a city that existed hundreds of years before her existence. Much to surprise, Tokyo was the complete opposite of what she imagined. The shy, raven-haired girl was four-and-a-half feet tall with the youth of a cherry blossom in eternal bloom. The perfect word to describe her: kawaii (cute).

For about a week, D.C. stayed at Tokyo's house, helping her catch up to the rest of the world and westernize her for the world stage. It was an experience D.C. would never forget. Thank America for coercing her into coming here. This place was freakin' awesome as he would put it.

"Senpai," Tokyo pointed at the pink branches above them, "aren't they pretty?"

D.C. made a nod of acknowledgement. "Kireina (Beautiful)," she awed at the amazing sight. "These cherry blossoms... They're called sakura, correct?"

"Mm-hm. They usually come into bloom for two to three weeks, so you're really fortunate to witness them."

"I see..." She studied the pink and white blossoms hanging above her and the surrounding people that gathered in the park to marvel at the lovely sight. "Your house is very pretty."

"You think so?" There was a twinkle in her plum colored eyes. "I-I mean, it probably doesn't compare to your house. I bet your home is more gorgeous than mine."

"Uh..." She cringed at the thought of Tokyo visiting her house.

The area around the Potomac River was essentially a smelly swamp full of ogres. Aka politicians. The flood waters would constantly soak the ground, constantly turning the roads into an icky, muddy slush. The summers were especially intolerable. For the flies and mosquitos, it was heaven in their disgusting eyes. The sweating, the itching, and the diseased-ridden filth was so commonplace, it put D.C. to shame. She was supposed to be a city that represented American democracy. In reality, she was a district full of crime and crummy slums that made Mississippi's home look like the Garden of Eden. Seeing Tokyo, a younger capital, keep her house so beautiful and tidy made her a bit envious in a way.

"What is your house like?" Tokyo asked.

"U-Uh..." She quickly composed her thoughts. "It's not like your home, so I doubt you'll be impressed by the sight."

Question marks appeared over her head. "What do you mean by that?"

"Well..." She looked up at the flowering branches above her. "For one, the trees in my home aren't like the trees around here. Most of them were cut down in order to make room for roads and buildings. So, it's really impressive in my opinion to see such beauty this close to your home." She breathed in the fresh, spring air. "... I really am fortunate to see this before I leave." 

"Mm... Perhaps you can take some of my cherry blossom trees with you."

"Really?" D.C. looked back at her in amazement.

"I know we'll be seeing each other more in the years to come. But with our busy schedules, I can't imagine being unable to see cherry blossoms for many years." She blushed. "For a while, I've been thinking. After doing so much for me, I wish to give you something in return. If possible, I wish to give you some of cherry blossom trees. That way, you'll be able to see the cherry blossoms bloom every year."

As much as D.C. wanted to accept her gift, she knew she had to hold herself back. "I wish I can accept your offer. However, I need to ask my boss first."

"That's alright. I'll await your response until then." She softly smiled.

She softly smiled in return. "Domo arigato gozaimasu (Thank you very much)."

A cherry blossom falls between the two women, marking the beginning of their diplomatic friendship.

☆☆☆☆☆

**August 30, 1909 ~ Washington D.C., U.S.A.**

For a long time, Washington D.C. advocated for the planting of Japanese cherry trees around her home. Many times, she was rebuffed and rarely taken seriously. However, she was steadily gaining support for her request. Like, yeah! Drain the swamp! Make D.C. beautiful again!

Months after sending her letter to Tokyo, informing her of her boss's approval, D.C. received a letter in her mailbox.

_Dear Washington D.C.,_

_I am very happy to receive your approval. The moment I got your message, I went to work to prepare your gift. In honor of my name and the country of Japan, I'll be donating 2,000 cherry blossom trees to your home. When you receive my gift, I hope you accept them and cherish them as a symbol of our blossoming friendship. Thank you so much for giving me this opportunity to repay for all that you've done for me and the country. I'll await your response until then._

_Sincerely, Tokyo_

"Holy damn," D.C. muttered in disbelief. "2,000 cherry trees... That's more than enough for a gift." She sighed. "... I shouldn't complain. At the very least, I'm glad I can have cherry blossoms of my own." She smiled to herself.

~ Hetalia! ~

**January 28, 1910 ~ Washington D.C., U.S.A.**

Washington D.C. sat at her desk, staring blankly at the white sheets of paper in front of her. The pen in her hand refused to move. She was still thinking what to write, what to say to her. But... How can she convey the emotional complexity of the situation without offending her? There was no way to hide the truth. She could soften the blow, but it wouldn't erase what she did. Either way, she needed to inform her about her gift.

She began to write.

_Dear Tokyo,_

_I received your gracious gift. All 2,000 Japanese cherry trees arrived at my house on the first week of the New Year. Thank you very much for sending them. I loved them very much._

She stopped writing for a moment.

_... Sadly, much to my regret, a team of botanists discovered the trees were infected with various pests and diseases. These pests and diseases might seem quite small to some. However, they posed a problem in concern to nature itself. Such pests and diseases might grow and populate onto the cherry blossom trees, killing them as a result. Much worse, they might inhabit the flora and fauna in my home, becoming a threat to native ecosystems if they were to go unchecked._

She heaved a heavy sigh.

_It was with a heavy heart I was forced, out of precaution and concern for the wildlife, to destroy all 2,000 cherry trees. As proof of what happened, I attached this letter with photos of the infected trees and their burning as proof of what I did..._

The image of the fiery pyre burned in her mind.

_Both America and I are deeply saddened to destroy your gift. I understand you worked hard to prepare this gift for me. For that, I'm truly sorry. By no means are my actions against you or your people. To be honest, I'm still in favor of seeing cherry blossoms in my home. They would've been lovely when grown and in full bloom. Unfortunately, my self-interests must be set aside in concern to the balance of nature. To those who were involved in this whole affair, I apologize for wasting your time. Such a mistake will never happen again._

_... Your feeling on the matter have always been considered multiple times. This may sadden you, confuse you, anger you, but please, for the love of God, understand I don't have anything against you. Even if it's not possible to plant cherry blossom trees in my home, I still wish to be..._

It took D.C. a little longer than most to find the word she wanted to say.

_... friends._

_Sincerely, Washington D.C._

After letting the ink dry, Washington D.C. placed the letter in an envelope. There was a moment of hesitation prior to leaving the house, second thoughts on adding more to the letter. Such thoughts remained her head after delivering the letter to the Embassy of Japan. She didn't have much of an appetite later that night.

~ Hetalia... ~

**February 14, 1912 ~ Washington D.C., U.S.A.  
**

Washington D.C. had long forgotten about the letter until today. Two years later, her answer finally arrived in her mailbox. The guilt came back. She wasn't sure what to expect. She held off from reading the letter, eating first so she wouldn't ruin her appetite. And later that night, before bed, she opened the envelope and read the contents of the letter she was holding.

_Dear Washington D.C.,_

_After reading your letter, I deeply regret sending you those Japanese cherry trees._

She paled. 'Oh crap. She hates me...' Despite the bad feeling in her chest, she continued reading.

_How can I be so careless. I've spent much of my time preparing all 2,000 cherry trees, tending to their needs and making sure they would survive a month's trip to your home. Hoping to hear good news from you knowing anything can go wrong, how foolish of me. I'm truly saddened to have sent you those cherry trees. Never will I let this happen again..._

'I screwed up didn't I...' She gulped.

_Having for a long time consider your actions as well as mine, I've finally made a decision... to send 3,020 cherry trees to your home._

'... What? Hang on.' She reread the letter, making sure she didn't read it wrong.

_Gomenasai (I'm sorry)! What you did was necessary to protect your home. If I was in your situation, I would've probably done the same thing. No doubt that was a difficult choice to make. But please, don't blame yourself. If anything, this was my fault. Watashi wo yurusite (Please forgive me)!_

_The letter of your boss's approval made me a bit excited. I was desperate to please you. I wanted to send you the cherry trees as soon as possible. Indeed, I worked hard to prepare all 2,000 cherry trees, but I was extremely careless. I should've inspected the cherry trees prior to sending them to you. If I did, I wouldn't have wasted everyone's time or forced you into making a hard decision. Again. Gomenasai! Watashi wo yurusite!_

She noticed a couple of dark spots on the paper. 'Are these... tear marks?'

_It was never my intention to make you feel bad or make fun of you, nor was it my intention to harm your ecosystems. I vowed to send you cherry trees the day your beautiful, blue gaze witnessed such fleeting beauty. The way you smiled made me smile. To hear you confess, opening your most private feelings, with such trust in me, you opened the steel cage and brought out a stirring warmth in my heart. It gave me the strength, the bravery of a thousand warriors, to interact with others without secluding myself in fear. It was because of you and America, Japan and I were able to stand as a world power._

_Even though my first gift was a failure, my vow still stands. Despite my mishaps, I wish to redeem my character and honor my promise. Thus, I'll be sending you a greater gift of 3,020 cherry blossom trees. This time, I'll be sure to inspect every single tree before sending them to you. By then, when you receive them, I hope you can still accept them as a token of our friendship. Until then, I send you my earnest blessings as a fellow capital and friend._

_Sincerely, Tokyo_

D.C. was at a loss for words. "... Thank Washington's ghost." She breathed a sigh of relief. She could finally sleep peacefully again.

~ Hetalia! ~

**March 27, 2012 ~ Washington D.C., U.S.A.**

D.C. sat on a rosy pink blanket underneath a cherry blossom tree, drinking a cup of green tea. "... And that was how I got these cherry blossom trees."

Hawaii was eating some dango while listening to D.C.'s story. "So, all these cherry blossom trees were from this day a hundred years ago?" She looked around the crowded, blossoming park.

"Sort of. Some of the trees are the descendants of Tokyo's gift. Others came from another batch of cherry trees Tokyo had given me." She placed a finger on her cheek. "I think it was... 1965 when I got another 3,800 cherry blossom trees from her. ... Yeah. 1965."

"Wow. Tokyo really is generous."

"Quite generous." D.C. sipped her cup of green tea. "She also gave me a 300-year-old stone lantern, a stone pagoda, and a golden Mikimoto Crown made out of over a thousand pearls as an anniversary gift for opening the country up to the United States."

"Cough!" Hawaii nearly choked on her sweet dumpling. "Hold up! She gave you all that from invading her home?!"

"When you put it that way, you make it seem like I'm the bad guy."

"You kinda are," she grumbled, recalling some bad memories.

"Well, to dispel your misperception of our friendship, I did send her a gift in return of her cherry blossom trees."

"What did you give her?"

She sipped her tea. "That's a story for another time."

"... This story is going to be a two-parter, isn't it?"

"Yep."

☆☆☆☆☆

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ Cherry blossom trees are mainly native in temperate regions such as Japan, Korea, China, and India. They're known for producing tiny, pink and white blossoms during the early spring. Such flowers come in many varieties, all of which bloom within a short lifespan of one to three weeks (depending on the variety) before falling off.
> 
> \- Japan in particular incorporates cherry blossom trees in various parts of their culture. For example, hanami is a centuries-old practice that involves picnicking under a cherry blossom tree. I can list more traditions, but I think most of y'all get the point.
> 
> \+ American interest for Japanese cherry trees began in the late nineteenth after America 'coerced' Japan into opening up its borders. Many wealthy Americans who visited Japan brought a few cherry tree back to America and planted them around their home. In 1885, Eliza Ruhamah Scidmore, inspired by her trip to Japan, was the first American to suggest the idea of planting cherry blossom trees around Washington D.C. Even though her request was rebuked, the idea began to blossom into popularity in the early 20th century.
> 
> \- By chance, Jokichi Takamine, a Japanese chemist who notably discovered adrenaline, caught wind of the proposed plans and asked First Lady Helen Herron Taft if she would accept a gift of 2,000 cherry trees from Tokyo. She accepted the offer. All would've went well weren't for the fact many of the 2,000 cherry trees were contaminated with pests and diseases (such an incident inspired the first quarantine laws in the United States). Even though the initial gift was burned and destroyed, Tokyo honorably sent a greater donation of 3,020 cherry trees to the U.S. capital. The second batch was planted around the Tidal Basin and East Potomac Park where most of them remain in the present era.
> 
> \+ Since the initial planting, the U.S. capital has since hosted the National Cherry Blossom Festival. The festival is held for around three weeks, and it consists of various events such as parade floats and the ceremonial lighting of a 360-year-old Japanese stone lantern.
> 
> \- Of course, cherry blossom trees aren't exclusive to Washington D.C. within the United States. Many cities have their own gardens and parks full of cherry blossoms in addition to hosting festivities involving their bloom. I recommend checking such places out and witness such beauty before it fades away.


	29. Flowering Dogwoods to Tokyo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Attached to the beginning of this episode is some thematic music. Feel free to play it while reading the story. Anyway, continue reading.

~

_Previously on 50☆Stars: Washington D.C. told a story to Hawaii about her blossoming friendship with Tokyo. And now back to our daily scheduled program._

~

**August 16, 1915 ~ Washington D.C., U.S.A.**

The States Annual Meeting began a month earlier than usual. It was upon the capital's request they hold the meeting today. Most assumed it was serious. A discussion regarding the Great War in the Old World? A discourse in concern to the growing levels of immigration across America? A debate about progressive policies and their effects in the long run? The meeting must be important for the capital to call every-

"I need a flowering tree to send to Tokyo."

"... What?"

☆☆☆☆☆

"You seriously called this meeting to talk about trees?" West Virginia frowned.

"I mean, I don't mind." Nebraska shrugged.

Washington D.C. allowed the complaints to settle down before she defended herself on the matter. "Over three years ago, Miss Tokyo sent me a gift of over 3,000 cherry blossom trees to my home as a symbol of friendship. Indeed, I already done much for her regarding her rise as a capital of a world power. However, I wish to return her generous gift with a gift of my own. Unfortunately, I'm stumped when it comes to a flowering tree I wish to present her with. Thus, I turn to everyone in this room for suggestions."

South Carolina raised her hand high in the air. "I suggest my sabal palms will make an excellent gift for the Japanese capital. They-"

"Are not a flowering tree," she shot her down. "Preferably, I wish to present a flowering tree that's  _native_  to America." When she said this, a number of states lowered their hands.

Mississippi's hand was still raised. "Ooh! How about southern magnolias?"

The capital took an interest in her suggestion. "Go on."

The Mississippian giggled. She forced Alabama to hold up a painting of southern magnolias for the states to see while she did the talking.

"Southern magnolias are the perfect flowering tree. So big, so majestic. No one can't deny its greatness," she bragged. "Its wood is hardy enough for material use. Its large leaves and branches provide plenty of shade during the summer months. Most importantly, the magnolia flowers will captivate the noble and the pure with its lemon-citrus scent. For sure, southern magnolias are the way to go!"

There were many nods coming from the Southern states. However, one of the Southerners appeared to disagree with her suggestion. He raised his hand high in the air.

"Anything you have to say, Oklahoma?" D.C. questioned.

"Yes," said Oklahoma. "I think it's in your best interests to consider another candidate as your gift to Tokyo."

"And what candidate will that be?"

Oklahoma held up a painting as he presented his argument to the room.

"Ladies and gentleman, I present the eastern redbud, a flowering tree that's very similar to Japanese cherry trees," said Oklahoma. "Both are short in stature. Both are a symbol of spring, a season that brings back the sunny warmth from the cold winter months. When spring comes, both trees bloom in shades of pink, its flowers bringing back color to the gray landscape. Overall, these commonalities are what I think best match the relationship between Japan and the United States. As such, I hope this tree is picked as a gift to Tokyo." 

Many states seemed to agree with Oklahoma.

Mississippi huffed. "Sure, the eastern redbud is quite similar to the cherry blossom tree. However, you forget the redbud is akin to Judas, traitor to Jesus Christ!" Many states looked horrified when she said this.

Oklahoma grew annoyed of the Bible-thumper. "You got it all wrong. The eastern redbud is completely different from the European redbud. At the very least, the eastern redbud is more commonplace in America while your choice is mainly exclusive to the South which doesn't exactly symbolize the entirety of America."

She pouted. "Your suggestion symbolizes shame and remorse!"

"Your suggestion symbolizes privilege and arrogance!"

"Enough!" D.C. shouted, shutting them up. "From what I can understand, southern magnolias are difficult to grow outside humid climates, so I doubt they'll thrive well in Japan's more temperate climate. As for eastern redbuds, their symbolism in relation to Christian theology will most likely cause controversy for many. As such, both candidates won't be suited for the task at hand."

"Aw," Mississippi and Oklahoma groaned in disappointment.

Virginia raised her hand. "May I give my suggestion on the matter?"

"You have the floor."

She stood up as Missouri and North Carolina held up a painting for the room to see.

"There are many dogwoods, that is true. However, I believe America's flowering dogwood is best suited as a gift to Tokyo," the Virginian spoke in a calm, yet composed manner. " _Cornus florida_  is a hardy, temperate tree that's grown and loved in both the Northern and Southern states; a union of American ideals. They come in various shades of white and red; symbolic colors of the Japanese flag. Pure white blooms in particular are akin to sakura for both symbolize the death and rebirth of life. Overall, the flowering dogwood is a durable, reliable tree of great strength and resilience, a holy testament of America as an ally of democracy. Thus, I highly recommend we send such elegant trees to Tokyo to reciprocate the blossoming friendship that connects both exquisite places in love and peace."

The room was stunned in awe of Virginia's brief, yet mesmerizing speech. The only sound left in the room was Maryland's standing ovation for her friend. "So beautiful. Couldn't have said it better myself..." She wiped away her tears.

D.C. coughed into her fist, getting everyone's attention. "Okay. The flowering dogwood sounds like the best candidate. Unless someone else has a better suggestion for me to consider." She looked around the room.

The only person to raise their hand was South Carolina. "I still recommend we send sabal palms to Tokyo."

She frowned. "I've made my decision. The flowering dogwood shall be my gift to Tokyo."

North Carolina smirked. "Told you she would go with the flowering dogwood."

"Oh, shut up!" South Carolina huffed.

~ Hetalia! ~

**November 16, 1915 ~ Tokyo, Japan**

Upon arriving at Tokyo Station, Washington D.C. went over to one of the freight cars. She checked on her gift, making sure all flowering dogwoods were accounted for. Twenty, forty, sixty... She scowled at the sixty saplings she brought with her, unable to hide her chagrin.

'Is this the best I can do? Sixty saplings and a bunch of seeds..' She groaned. 'Normally, this is fine. But compared to Tokyo's gift, this looks cheap.'

To her credit, she did try to find any available flowering dogwood saplings. Unfortunately, not many nurseries had the right size saplings for viable transport and travel. It also didn't help much of her resources were spent on more important matters, nor did she have the time to put off this arrangement.

Still, she cringed at the thought of Tokyo's judgement when she sees her gift.  _"Sixty? I gave you over three thousand cherry blossom trees, and this was the best you could do. Ungrateful American! I hate you! Baka (Idiot)!"_  She shook her head. She left the freight car in disappointment.

"Konichiwa (Good day), D.C.-sama." Tokyo bowed her head.

D.C. grew startled by her sudden appearance. "K-Konichiwa, Tokyo-san! What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you." She cocked her head. "Is my gift inside that freight car?"

"Uh... yes." She closed the sliding door behind her.

"Is there something wrong?"

"What do you mean?"

"You closed the door with a face full of fear and regret."

She scowled. "... I won't lie. My gift might disappoint you."

She blinked her eyes. "Why would a gift coming from you disappoint me?"

D.C. sighed. "I guess there's no use hiding them from you," she mumbled to herself. Her grip on the handle tightened as she slid the door open, revealing her present to the Japanese capital.

Tokyo's plum-colored eyes widened with interest. "Oh," she awed. "All these saplings are your gift to me?"

She made a curt nod of acknowledgement. "Yes. These are saplings from the American dogwood, a beloved tree to the American people. All these dogwoods are now yours as a symbol of friendship and peace." She didn't dare look her in the face.

Tokyo took a look inside the freight car. "Is that all of them?"

"Uh... Many of the saplings I requested were limited in number. It wasn't my intention to-"

"I see."

"I'm sorry-"

"Thank you for your gift." She smiled and bowed.

For a moment, D.C. had a stroke. Her mind didn't expect this curve ball of a reaction. "Uh... You're not disappointed?"

"Not at all. If they're anything like the Japanese dogwood, they'll certainly be lovely in parks and gardens. I can't wait to see them all grown and in bloom." She didn't seem at all bothered by the number of saplings in the freight train.

Rather than argue with her, D.C decided to just go with it. "... Great! I'm glad you like them very much." She smiled in return.

~ Hetalia! ~

**March 27, 2012 ~ Washington D.C., U.S.A.**

"And that was my gift to Tokyo." D.C. drank from her cup of matcha green tea.

Hawaii chewed on her dango dumpling, looking rather annoyed. "Your gift to Tokyo was sixty flowering dogwood saplings..."

"Uh-huh."

"And you never gave her anymore dogwood saplings since then."

"What are you implying?"

"You couldn't even give her a hundred flowering dogwoods while Miss Tokyo gave you over six thousand cherry trees in the last hundred years!" She pouted. "Don't you feel a bit guilty about this?"

"Why would I?"

"Because this is unfair!"

"Ah, but you forget I donated many cherry tree cuttings to Tokyo to help her rebuild the original cherry blossom lineage when it was close to dying out." She sipped her cup of tea. "... Still unfair?"

"Yes!"

"It wouldn't matter."

"What do you mean?"

She sighed. "Most of them were destroyed during World War II, at a time when anti-American sentiment took over the island. Ten, twenty, a thousand, it wouldn't matter because they would've been destroyed. Obviously, Tokyo apologized for destroying them, so no hard feelings."

Hawaii frowned. "Still, couldn't you give her more flowering dogwoods? Sure, she might've done bad things in the past, but," she stared up at the cherry blossoms above them, "she has also done so much for us. All these cherry blossoms trees, it's all thanks to her generosity. Isn't it time we return the favor?"

D.C. gazed up at the cherry blossoms, recalling memories of her and Tokyo. The first one that came in mind was the first National Cherry Blossom Festival. The second one that came after was news of Pearl Harbor. The third one that came later was her boss giving his approval to proceed with the bombing. Tokyo's face when she met D.C. at the peace conference, eyes full of burning pain, burning loss, and burning bitterness. Somehow, despite their crimes toward one another, their relationship didn't end. By some miracle, they were able to pick up the broken pieces, rebuild that bridge of trust, forgive one another, and become friends again.

"You think I'm that selfish?"

"I mean..." Hawaii shrugged

"You're not wrong about my initial gift being somewhat unfair." She sipped her cup of tea. "Which is why I plan to give Tokyo three thousand flowering dogwood saplings later this year."

"Really? That's awesome!"

She smirked. "And you doubted me."

"I mean, it's not six thousand-"

"Better than nothing." She patted the top of her head.

~ Hetalia! ~

**November 16, 2012 ~ Tokyo, Japan**

Somewhere at a city park, Tokyo and Washington D.C. planted a flowering dogwood sapling next to a cherry blossom tree.

D.C. wiped the sweat off her brow. "Whew! We're finally done planting all of them."

Tokyo giggled. "Doumo arigatou gozaimasu (Thank you very much)!" She bowed her head. "This time, I'll take very good care of them."

"I'm sure you will," she panted.

"You seem worn out. How about we get ourselves something to eat?"

"Good idea. What do you have in mind?"

"Hm. I know a place that serves very tasty shabu-shabu."

"Lead away."

Both capitals walked, side by side, out of the park as they got themselves some food later that day.

☆☆☆☆☆

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ Flowering dogwoods are a species of flowering plant that's mostly native to the Eastern United States. It was originally used to treat dog mange, thus where it got its name. Contrary to its appearance, the four white/pink petals aren't actually the flower. The flowers are actually the small, greenish-yellow bracts in the middle of the "flower". It's the state tree of Missouri, the state flower of North Carolina, and both the state tree and state flower of Virginia. Many Americans appreciate the flowering dogwood as a nice ornamental plant in residential and public places.
> 
> \+ In 1915, in response to Tokyo's gift of 3,020 cherry blossom trees, Washington D.C. sent 60 flowering dogwood saplings to Tokyo. While most of the cherry trees in Washington D.C. survived the souring relationship in the mid-20th century, unfortunately, only one flowering dogwood survived into the present era. Fortunately in 2012, on the 100th anniversary of Tokyo's gift of 3,020 cherry blossom trees, Washington D.C. sent 3,000 flowering dogwood saplings to Tokyo.
> 
> \- Flowering dogwoods go by hanamizuki or Amerika yamaboshi in Japan. While there aren't any popular festivals revolving around the flowering dogwood, they're quite popular in many public and residential areas in Japan due to their hardiness and less imposing size compared to the ginkgo tree.


	30. Q&A

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: To those on AO3, this Q&A was based on questions given to me by readers on Wattpad. As such, these readers' usernames/Wattpad accounts were mentioned in this episode. Anyway, hopefully that cleared up any confusion regarding the origins of these questions.

~

"Durufu! What's up, dudes! Welcome to the first 50 States Q&A! I'm your host, America! Joining me today in answering these questions are my 50 States and Washington D.C."

The camera zooms out, revealing fifty-two individuals crowding around the stage. Washington D.C. sits comfortably in a chair next to America's desk. New York and Florida argue over their spot among the Big Three at the couch. California tells Texas to not ruin her photo with Hawaii. Virginia patiently sits with Kansas on a cushion table, both smiling politely at the audience. The rest of the states try to comfortably sit on metal folding chairs and the hard, wooden floor. It isn't easy getting everyone in the frame, the cameraman will tell anyone that much.

America laughs. "Okay! Let's get this Q&A started!"

☆☆☆☆☆

"First question goes to Hawaii! [That-Random-Comment](https://www.wattpad.com/user/That-Random-Comment) wants to know: What is it like being the youngest among the states?"

Hawaii laughs, "It's very unfair. Sure, being one of the younger states has its perks, but I can't do cool, adult stuff like drink blue cocktails or drive a car! I also hate how people don't take you seriously just because you look like a kid. Like, I'm thinking about independence, but nobody listens to me! It's annoying. I hate it. And-"

"Aw, Hawaii is so cute when she's mad," Mississippi hugs the little Hawaiian.

"You see what I mean!"

~ Hetalia! ~

"Guess what, Indiana? You're quite popular today because we got a bunch of questions for you!" America beams.

"Wow. Really?"

"Yep! [Fight-Hoosier-Illini](https://www.wattpad.com/user/Fight-Hoosier-Illini) is wondering: Do you have a crush on any states in particular?"

She shakes her head. "Nah. I mainly see my fellow states as friends. Nothing more than that."

"The closest she fallen in love was with her tractor," Louisiana jokes.

America holds back a laugh. "Well, since you don't have a crush, [AbramsS2020](https://www.wattpad.com/user/AbramsS2020) is wondering: Who do you like more — Illinois, Michigan, or Ohio?"

"Hm... That's a difficult question."

"What do you mean? The answer is pretty easy!" says Illinois with a smug smile.

"I mean, Michigan has an ego the size of Lake Superior, and Ohio is honestly lame."

"Not true!" Michigan and Ohio protest in unison.

"As for you..." She looks at Illinois like a strange piece of art. "You're..."

"Awesome? Suave? Inspiring?"

"Dishonest was the word I would use to describe you."

"Ouch..." America whispers.

He laughs off the insult. "I'm not  _that_  dishonest."

"You're an irresponsible philanderer in debt."

"Ouch!" America, some states, and most of the audience react to her brutal, yet honest comment.

Illinois crumples in rejection. "Girl, you're sinking the ship."

"Ship?"

"You know! Our ship name! Illiana! I even named a small town after us."

She looks back at America. "Can we move this show along?"

"But Illiana though!"

~ Hetalia... ~

"Got a question for you, Kentucky! [AbramsS2020](https://www.wattpad.com/user/AbramsS2020) asks: Do you and Indiana have a rivalry?"

"Of course!" he exclaims. However, his smile transforms to a frown. "Or, we used to... What happened?" He turns to Indiana for an explanation.

"Uh... There was a lot of shit talking... Then there were disagreements regarding our schedules. And... yeah. Our rivalry sorta cooled off." She glowers. "Honestly, I kinda miss it."

"Yeah. Me, too. Let's schedule a game together."

"Can't."

"Why not?"

"Got a game against Illinois."

"Ha!" Illinois snickers.

"No crush, she says..." Kentucky grumbles.

~ Hetalia! ~

"Okay, we need to keep this show going." America reads the next question, "Missouri, [Fight-Hoosier-Illini](https://www.wattpad.com/user/Fight-Hoosier-Illini) asks: What do you like and dislike about the states around you?"

"Oh, God." Missouri scratches her head. "To those at home who don't know, eight states border my home. This is going to be a long answer, so bare with me." She takes a deep breath. "Iowa is nice, however, he's not very interesting."

"Not surprising..." Iowa halfheartedly mumbles.

"I like Illinois, but come on. St. Louis blues are  _way_  better."

"I disagree," says Illinois with crossed arms.

She stares keenly at Kentucky and Tennessee. "As for Kentucky and Tennessee, I love them, but I always confuse them because of how similar they are."

"We aren't  _that_  alike," says Kentucky and Tennessee in unison.

"As for Arkansas, I can relate a lot to him, especially considering he and I were once a part of Louisiana Territory." She stops talking for a moment. "... I guess the one thing I have to hate about him is his name."

"Thanks, Kansas," Arkansas sarcastically remarks.

Kansas cocks her head. "What did I do?"

"Don't play innocent. You know what you did." Missouri turns to the next state. "As for Oklahoma, he and I rarely interact, so I don't have much of an opinion on him. But if I have to be honest, I'm sorta envious of his football skills."

"You're very good at baseball though," Oklahoma points out.

She looks to Nebraska, purposely skipping Kansas. "As for her... She and Iowa are basically the same thing, so I'm indifferent to her."

"Don't know whether to take that as a compliment or not," Nebraska mumbles.

She breathes out. "Okay. That should answer the question."

"But what about me?" Kansas speaks up.

She coldly glares at her. "... We should move on to the next question."

Kansas gulps.

~ Hetalia... ~

"Here's a question for Rhode Island. [That-Random-Comment](https://www.wattpad.com/user/That-Random-Comment) asks: Is it annoying being the smallest, or do you not mind?"

"Ha!" He smirks. "There's nothing wrong with being small. I can argue all day how being small has its advantages. But to answer your question, I don't mind."

"You're slightly shorter than Hawaii, and you're not even a real island," South Dakota teases him.

"Shut your mouth!"

"About that," America interrupts, "[AbramsS2020](https://www.wattpad.com/user/AbramsS2020) is wondering: Why you're called Rhode Island when you're not even an island?"

"Technically, I'm kinda an island." Little Rhody points to a whiteboard with a map of his home on screen.

"See that red island? That's Aquidneck Island. Long ago, my founder named it Rhode Island," he explains. "Rhodes was one of my older brothers alongside Providence Plantations. Long story short, Massachusetts sucked ass, thus they united to create me: Rhode Island and Providence Plantations."

North Dakota scowls. "What a mouthful. You couldn't take on a shorter name?" 

"Nah. Big names are good."

"Didn't you say-"

"Next question!"

~ Hetalia! ~

"Okay, Utah. [DanielaCruz918](https://www.wattpad.com/user/DanielaCruz918) wants to know: Do you miss Joseph Smith and Brigham Young?"

"Thanks, Daniela." Utah smiles. "Unfortunately, I wasn't able to meet Joseph Smith since he died before the Mormons arrived in my home. Brother Brigham spoke many great things about him and his teachings, so I guess I'm really grateful to him for founding Mormonism and the Latter Day Saint movement."

"Wasn't he a fraud?" New York mutters, recalling his history.

"Those are just rumors." He bats an eyelash at his doubts. "As for Brother Brigham, he was somewhat like a father to me although he was also my boss at the same time. Either way,  I admire him for teaching me many great things. Hopefully he's doing well living in God's domain."

"Cough! Mountain Meadows. Cough!" Arkansas grumbles.

"Didn't he have over twenty wives and fifty children?" Missouri questions.

Utah sighs. "Can you not take a dead man's name in vain?"

~ Hetalia... ~

"Alaska, Texas, [akOOHLAALAAA](https://www.wattpad.com/user/akOOHLAALAAA) wants to know: Can you two last about 10 minutes in a locked room together?"

Alaska blinks her eyes. "Yeah?"

"I don't have a problem with her." Texas shrugs.

"That was anticlimactic," says Alabama.

"Were you expecting us to fight or something?"

"I mean, you two are so different," West Virginia points out.

"Sure, but we do share some things in common," says Alaska.

"We love hunting."

"Fishing is another good one."

"Oil."

"Guns."

"Dogs."

"Big."

"Very big."

"I'm the biggest in all of America!" Texas huffs with pride.

"Not since 1959," she corrects her.

The audience oohs.

"W-Well, at least I have a steady Internet connection!"

"That's true..." she sulks.

~ Hetalia... ~

"Here's a question for the Four Corners Gang. [DanielaCruz918](https://www.wattpad.com/user/DanielaCruz918) asks: What do you guys like and dislike about each other?"

"Sinners. I hate sinners." Utah gives his friends a disapproving look. "What I don't get is how careless they are when it comes to their health. The amount of things they inhale and ingest sends shivers down my spine."

Arizona scoffs, "Well, we don't like how much of a religious snob you are. I get you want to stay pure, but this is America! Always telling us to watch our language is honestly getting on my nerves."

"Speak for yourself," New Mexico grumbles. "You're probably the most annoying out of the four of us."

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean! You nearly got me arrested after that stunt you pulled in Episode 24."

"I  _nearly_  got you arrested."

"You're a dangerous troublemaker." He turns to Colorado. "You're a troublemaker, too."

"Me? What did I do?" Colorado smokes a joint.

"Even though you're not as reckless as her, you still cause trouble. Getting high and breaking the law. It's because of people like you there's so many problems with America. And-"

"Oh my gosh!" Arizona groans. "You're such a loser."

"Loser?! I defeated Texas before! How am I a loser?"

"Please don't bring up bad memories..." Texas grumbles in the background.

She rolls her eyes. "You know. Colorado, Utah, and I are young. We like to hang out and have fun until you ruin the party."

He scowls. "Fun doesn't involve getting high and partying till three in the morning."

America leans away from their escalating argument. "Okay... Moving on!"

~ HETALIA! ~

America checks the clock. "Hm... For time's sake, the Original Thirteen will have one question to answer." He picks a note card and reads it out loud. "[FlameyFighter](https://www.wattpad.com/user/FlameyFighter) asks: How was the beginning of America? Like, around the American Revolution with Washington and Hamilton?"

Many states try to speak up at once. "Time-out!" Delaware speaks up. "We'll answer in order by statehood."

"Typical," Rhode Island grumbles, last as always.

He ignores the tiny grump. "At the time, I wasn't exactly in favor of the revolution. I was a small state, so I didn't think highly of myself, nor did I believe the revolution was worth it. It took a lot of convincing, but I eventually helped my friends for various reasons..." He gestures the next state to answer the question.

"Hm... I remember arguing with Mr. Prussia a lot," Pennsylvania recalls one of her fonder memories of the revolution. "He and I were different when it came to our personalities, but I did enjoy his company. He was of great help to us. We owe him so much for his assistance."

"Speaking of Mr. Prussia," New Jersey chuckles, "I still remember the brutal drills he always made me and America do. He nearly killed us. Although, he did make me stronger and more appreciative of his help. I mean, if it weren't for him I wouldn't have these abs!" He lifts his shirt up, giving a couple of women in the audience nose-bleeds.

"Put your shirt down!" Georgia hits his hand before composing herself. "Regarding my experience with the revolution, it was bittersweet. Despite England's flaws, we still see him as family. An older brother to America, a caretaker and guardian to the rest of us... We were relieved to not only win the war, but end it as well. The emotional toll it had on us was... significant, I'll say that much."

"I remember crying a lot when I learned a dear friend of mine was hanged for spying on the British," says Connecticut with a sad smile on his face. "I was very angry, and I took it out on England. But like Georgia said, the emotional toll the war had on me was a lot to take in. In the end, all I could do was move on..." His answer trails off into awkward silence.

Massachusetts gives him an annoyed look. "Geez, thanks for bringing down the mood."

He rolls his eyes. "My answer wasn't that depressing."

He scowls. "Okay. From now on, no more depressing answers. For example, my experience during the revolution was wicked awesome!"

"Didn't a lot of people-"

"Chugging beer! Throwing tea into the harbor! Making fun of England's bushy eyebrows! That's my version of the revolution! You agree, America?"

"Heck, yeah!" He and Massachusetts give each other fist bumps.

Maryland giggles, "Absolutely! As someone from Catholic upbringings, America's victory over the limey bastard was sweet revenge in my opinion."

South Carolina cackles in amusement. "Don't get me wrong. I adore England for treating me like the royal princess I was. But how dare he invade my private regions!" She huffs, "I was so mad, I renamed 'Charles Town' to Charleston just to make it sound less British. That showed him!"

New Hampshire awkwardly smiles. "Well, not much happened in my home, so I don't think my experience with the revolution is that impressive. Still, I like to think my contribution counts."

"Let's see... There's so much I could talk about the revolution." Virginia places a hand on her cheek. "Concerning the question involves Mr. Washington, no doubt he's an important figure." She softly smiles. "He genuinely felt like a father figure to me and America. I dare say, he was one of the most respectable men I had the honor of meeting. Never will I forget all that he has done for us Americans."

New York nods his head. "Since the person asked about Hamilton, I'll mainly talk about him." He sips his cup of coffee. "I remember him sending these giant letters to me during the war. Like, these letters were fifteen pages long. It would take me forever to read the entire thing. Whenever I wrote back, he would always get on me for my short, unimpressive letters. He would write, "Why aren't you answering my letters? Are you purposely ignoring me?" And I would always write back, "Bitch! I'm trying to spy on the British! Do you have any idea how hard it is to send a message without causing suspicion? Also, stop sending me essays! I'm a busy man!" So, yeah. He was annoying, but a good friend nevertheless."

America checks back at the clock. "Okay, we need to wrap this section up. North Carolina, Rhode Island, keep it short."

"Uh... I cross-dressed as a soldier, so I could enlist in the army. Is that a good answer?" North Carolina awkwardly stares at the camera.

"England sucked. Is that a short enough answer for you?" Rhode Island says with an attitude.

America is about to say something, but he quickly shuts his mouth. "... Yeah. Good enough."

~ Hetalia! ~

"We'll finish this Q&A with questions regarding shipping."

"Shipping?" Wyoming makes a confused face. "You mean postal shipping. Or, is that lingo for something?"

"It's also known as pairing," Montana whispers to him.

"Pairing?"

She pats him on the back. "I'll explain it to you after the show."

America reads off the note card, "[That-Random-Comment](https://www.wattpad.com/user/That-Random-Comment) wants to know: What do you think about being shipped with each other? Specifically, what do you think about some of the main ships like California x Texas, New Jersey x New York, Nevada x California, and Idaho x Potato?"

"Very cute!" California is the first to speak up. "Jade may not be a shipper, but that won't stop me from shipping myself with everyone." She hugs an indifferent Nevada from behind. "Although, it's hella weird being shipped with a dumb redneck." She and Texas give each other glares.

"Miss Jade doesn't necessarily have 'main' ships although she's known to showcase particular pairings if you get what I mean," Nevada explains.

New Jersey nods his head. "Yeah! Yorkie and I don't necessarily like each other, but the rivalry is what fuels the ship. Call it a love-hate relationship. I think it's beautiful."

"I think it's annoying." New York drinks his coffee.

Idaho hauntingly stares down at a potato in his hand. "Have I been committing vore this whole time?"

America makes a nervous chuckle. "Alright... The author has about a hundred words left before she has to conclude this episode. Last question comes from [AbramsS2020](https://www.wattpad.com/user/AbramsS2020): What are your favorite state ships?"

"Illiana!" Illinois is the first to answer.

"I don't know why, but New Jerk (New York x New Jersey) makes me smile whenever they're together," Maine giggles.

"I don't ship them romantically, but I think Alaska and Hawaii are cute together," Minnesota shyly answers.

"I don't know. Tex and I make a pretty cute couple," Tennessee makes a wink at the Texan.

"How about no."

"I think the cutest ship has to be the Corn Couple," Kansas giggles. "Their love for corn is what makes the pairing work." Iowa and Nebraska give her weird looks, oblivious to this 'couple' she's referring to.

"Can Bigfoot and myself count as a possible ship?" Washington asks.

"This is going to sound crazy, but I think there's something going on between Michigan and Ohio," says Oregon.

"Ew!" Michigan makes a disgusted face. "Never! Ever! Ship me with the lamest state in America!"

Ohio scoffs, "First off, who would ever ship anyone with a literal monster?! She's mean, she's nasty, and she's a bitch!"

"Bitch! I'll tear you up!" She and Ohio proceed to get into a nasty fight as usual.

America laughs. "With that is the end of this Q&A. Thanks for watching (reading), everyone! Until the next Q&A, my states, my capital, myself, and the author hope everyone will continue to enjoy many more episodes of our shenanigans to come!"

☆☆☆☆☆

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ Thanks to those on Wattpad who gave my OCs questions for this Q&A. There were so many questions I wasn't able to include otherwise this episode would be too long. My apologies. But without a doubt, I'll most likely do another Q&A episode in the future.
> 
> \- By the way, it was a bit tricky trying to format everyone's questions and answers. I tried answering by username, however, the format wasn't flowing smoothly. The format I used was answering questions pertaining to a specific state and finishing the episode off with questions pertaining to groups or all the states (notably with a silly question for a fun conclusion). I might use this type of format for later Q&A's, so hopefully everyone liked this format.


	31. The St. Louis Secret

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This episode will trigger New Yorkers and bagel snobs. You've been warned.

~

The clerk behind the counter smiles at the next customer. "Hi! Welcome to the St. Louis Bread Company (aka Panera Bread)! How may I... help... you...?"

Missouri approaches the counter, wearing a black hoodie and a pair of black shades that hide her eyes. "I like to order half a dozen bagels please."

"Um..." The clerk blinks their eyes. "What kind of bagels would you like?"

"Three plain bagels and three everything bagels," she orders. "I'll also have two containers of honey walnut cream cheese."

"Okay." They nod their head.

"And..." Missouri peers close to their face and whispers, "I want the St. Louis secret."

The clerk gives her a quizzical look. "Uh... I don't think that's on the-"

"Is there a problem?" A tall man in a dress shirt and tie appears behind the clerk.

"M-Manager!" the clerk stutters. "Nothing! The customer is asking for the St. Louis secret, and-"

The manager covers their mouth. He glances at the customer with an unperturbed smile on his face. "Hahaha! Don't worry, ma'am. Your order will be ready in about two minutes."

"This order is to-go."

He nods. "Right, right." He pushes the clerk over to the side.

"S-Sir? What's the St. Louis secret?"

One of the employees pokes their head out of the kitchen. "It's taboo." They frown.

"What? Are you pulling my leg, Josh?" She peers over his shoulder.

Josh gets half a dozen bagels and puts them by the bread slicer. He takes a plain bagel and positions it within the device. With a sharp butcher knife, he proceeds to commit a crime against his Brooklyn values. He slices the bagel... vertically! Many times! Like bread! Bread! AAaaAAaahh!

The clerk pales. 'Why do I feel like I witnessed a murder...?'

☆☆☆☆☆

As soon as Missouri gets home, she sets her food down at the table. She grabs a clean plate from a kitchen cabinet and a butter knife from a drawl, setting them down at the table. Her hand dives straight into the bag, bringing out a box of bagels. Just as she's about to open the box, a loud knock hits her front door.

"FBI! OPEN UP!"

A mixture of confusion, irritation, and mortified terror paints across her face. "FBI?!"

She screams when her front door gets kicked down without warning. A team of men in SWAT gear raid her home. They invade every inch of her house, ruthlessly rummaging through items and making a mess of her place. One man approaches Missouri. She recognizes him instantly, and her blood boils over.

"New York! What's the meaning of this?" she questions.

"You're under arrest," New York tells her as two agents approach Missouri from behind.

"What are you talking about? I haven't done anything wrong!"

"You just committed a Class A felony."

"Class A felony?! I didn't murder anyone!"

"Yes, you did!"

"Sir," one of the agents approaches him, "we found the victims. It isn't pretty." He holds up a box full of vertically-sliced bagels.

He shifts his mournful eyes away from the cruel sight. "Victims. It's not just one." He gets up in her face. "How many did you kill?!"

She flinches, yet she stands her ground. "I killed no one!"

"She's lying, sir," says one of the agents as they read a receipt. "According to this record, she bought six individuals. Two sets of triplets. All of them in..." they suck in a dramatic breath, "the St. Louis secret."

_Dun-dun-dun!_

New York shivers at what the agent said. His eyes turned cold like the Hudson during blizzard. "You sick sociopath. Is this just a game for you to satisfy your sick desires?"

She scowls. "Doesn't the FBI have more important matters to attend to?"

"Don't you dare question the Federal Bagel Inspectors!" he screams. "Answer me! Why did you murder them?"

"Oh my God. They're just bagels. All I did was have them sliced up like bread."

"Just bagels... Sliced up like bread..." he mockingly laughs. "Oooh. I have a special prison cell reserved for sadistic criminals like you."

She fumes, "This is ridiculous! All I'm trying to do is enjoy some lunch until you and your whole operation completely waste everyone's time and resources!"

"Look. I wouldn't have barged in if you didn't torture and kill six innocent bagels for your amusement. If you just ate your bagels like any decent human being, this wouldn't have happened."

"There's nothing wrong with bread-sliced bagels!" She grabs the box from the agent. "Look!" She picks a bagel slice and takes a bite out of it. "Still tastes like a ba-"

"You monster!" He tackles her to the ground.

"H-Hey! Let me go!"

New York cuffs her wrists. "You're under arrest for the murder of six bagels. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say may be used against you in court. And..." He goes on to list her Miranda rights.

Missouri grumbles, "If I'm actually going to prison for a bunch of bagels, I'm going to murder you before I get locked up in a cell."

☆☆☆☆☆

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ On March 27, 2019, a man named Alek Krautmann, a St. Louis native, posted a photo of bread-sliced bagels he called 'the St. Louis secret'. His tweet got a bunch of responses, especially from bagel snobs in New York City who thought of him as a "sociopath". Some were quick to defend his bagel preference, finding nothing wrong with this unusual cut. Either way, I could go for an everything bagel with cream cheese right about now.


	32. Boiling Hoosiers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This episode is based on an old request as well as a question I wasn't able to answer for the previous Q&A. To those from Indiana, I hope you're happy with this episode because this is about the Indiana-Purdue rivalry.
> 
> Similar to Episode 20, this episode will be deviating from the 'rules' of this book by featuring human names in order to differentiate my Indiana OCs. 1P! Indiana is named Ivy, and 2P! Indiana is named Ida. Anyway, enjoy this episode.

~

**March 15, 1901 ~ West Lafayette, Indiana**

The creation of basketball is nearing its tenth anniversary. While relatively new, it's quickly becoming popular among high schools, colleges, and communities. Like any new sport, the rules to basketball are still in development; conferences have yet to be formed. As such, it leads to games such as this one.

Ida holds the ball in her hands. Sweat trickles down the side of her face as she scans for an opening. Many players on the court are running around. Some wear the old gold and black uniforms of the Purdue Boilermakers. Others wear the cream and crimson colors of the Indiana Hoosiers. None of her teammates, the Hoosiers, are open. Not good.

She can try to shoot for the basket, but from twenty-two feet... Impossible! She needs to get closer to the 'hoop': a makeshift peach basket attached to a wooden backboard. Unfortunately, she can't run while holding the ball without getting fouled. At the same time, she can't 'dribble' the ball. She can bounce the ball and pass it to another player, however, the ball may get caught in an opponent's hands. Her five seconds are about to be up. She needs to get rid of the ball, or else she'll get a foul for holding onto it for too long. She has no choice. She must make the shot before-

_Yoink!_

Ivy steals the ball. Ida tries to get it back, but Ivy quickly passes it to one of the Boilermakers at the other side of the court. The undefended player easily makes the shot, increasing their lead by one more point.

Ida's jaw drops to the floor. "Hey! That didn't count!"

The buzzer blares, ending the 35-minute game. "Purdue wins with a score of 23-19!" the referee announces.

The Boilermakers cheer. "Good job, guys!" Ivy congratulates her team. She and the rest of the team head over to their opponents. She offers her hand to Ida. "Good-"

Ida slaps her hand away. "This game doesn't count!" She bares her teeth.

She blinks her eyes. "Pardon?"

Ida doesn't give her an explanation. She storms off the court and heads out the gym, leaving everyone in a state of bewilderment.

☆☆☆☆☆

**March 8, 1969 ~ West Lafayette, Indiana**

Ida sits in a chair along the sidelines, groaning in pain. No, she isn't in need of medical treatment although she may need to see a therapist after tonight's trauma left many Hoosiers in a state of shock and travesty. The worst part, the game isn't over. Six minutes left in the fourth quarter of the game. Once again, the Boilermakers obliterate this one-sided game with another three pointer, puting their lead over their opponent by forty points. Over! Forty! Points! Yep, the Hoosiers have thrown in the towel at this point.

Ida's towel is thrown over her head, too ashamed to see Ivy make an easy two pointer. "Please let it be over. Please for the love of God. Let it be over."

After what seems like an eternity, the game finally ends her torture. Purdue wins the game with a whopping score of 120-76. Big oof!

Ivy jogs over to Ida. She's about to say good game, but she hesitates. Sure, she's thrilled to win, but this 'good game' is more like a lion mauling a wounded zebra that's been stuck in the mud since the second quarter. All she can say is, "... Sorry. Maybe next time?"

Ida's hands tighten into fists. She stands straight up without a word, refusing to meet her opponent's eyes. She makes the walk of shame back home.

~ Hetalia... ~

**January 31, 1981 ~ Bloomington, Indiana**

Ida forces her way to the hoop. Ivy is onto her, but she doesn't care. She wants to get ahead. And she's going to make this basket, no matter what. Moment of truth, she leaps forward.

Ivy jumps straight up, reaching up to block the ball. However, the ball manages to arch over her hand. Before she can see the shot, Ida's body collides with her, sending them both to the floor.

A referee blows the whistle. "Personal foul on Hoosier #91 for charging."

Ida looks at the ref in disbelief. "Are you blind? I didn't charge her!"

Ivy grunts, "Get off me." She pushes her away so she can stand up, unintentionally causing Ida to fall over.

Ida misinterprets the shove and suckerpunches her without warning. The entire court erupts in appalled gasps and foul-calling shouts.

The ref blows the whistle again. "Flagrant foul on Hoosier #91!"

"What?!" Ida glares at the ref. "She started it!"

"Immediate ejection from the game." The ref leads her off the court while another ref tends to Ivy's injury.

Ida furiously shakes her head. "This is bullshit! Fuck this game!" She makes her exit.

Ivy glowers. "What's her problem?"

~ Hetalia! ~

**February 8, 1981 ~ Bloomington, Indiana**

_Ring-ring-ring-ring! Ring-ring-ring-ring!_

Ivy picks up the telephone. "Hello?"

"Hey, Ivy! How ya doin'?" says Kenneth (1P! Kentucky).

She smiles. "Hey, Kent. I'm doing good."

"Say, ya watchin' the TV?"

"No. Why?"

"Ida talkin' crap 'bout you not goin' on some talk show."

"What? How did you know?"

"She talkin' 'bout you right now. Turn on the TV and see for yourself."

She scowls. "Alright. Take care."

"You, too."

Ivy hangs up the phone. She rushes over to her living room and turns on the television. She changes the channel constantly until she sees Ida on the TV. When she does, her mouth drops to the floor. "What in the world is she doing?"

On the TV, Ida is laughing and smiling with the host of the show. "So, the Hoosiers and I got to West Lafayette for our game against the Boilermakers. When we arrived at the court, anyone who wasn't wearing red started booing at us. Booing like a bunch of demonic cows. They were especially mean and nasty toward me."

"How so?"

She shakes her head. "They were awful to me. They called me so many names I shouldn't say on this show. Most of them looked young. Most likely Purdue students. They were no doubt horrible. I swear by the Lord, sir. I saw them throw stuff at me. Napkins, cups, half-eaten hot dogs, they were still hung up on me defending myself in the last game. They even gave me death threats!"

"I see. How did you react to such negativity?"

"I mean, I tried to ignore them. I was focused on the game ahead of me, so I tried not to be bothered by the noise. And well, I managed to get through the game. My team lost. I like to think the jeers had something to do with our game being off." She sighs. "Sure, I was upset, but it was just a game. No need for Purdue to shove the win in our faces. At that point, after the game, I felt Purdue owed an explanation for their inexcusable behavior."

"I heard you tried getting a Purdue representative onto our show."

"Yeah. I tried getting them on the show, so they could explain themselves. They refused my invitation which was a shame. Not taking responsibility for Purdue's ridiculous behavior, a cowardly move I tell you."

"So, you came alone?"

She scratches the back of her head. "Not exactly."

The camera shifts over to a male donkey standing by the stage, a couple of feet away from them. The donkey is wearing a hat with the Purdue logo on it.

The host struggles to keep a straight face. "Um... Who's our guest?"

"That's Jack. Jack A- Well, you know his last name," she chuckles.

"Well, nice to meet you, Jack." A giggle slips out of his mouth. "Glad to have you here."

"Eeeee-aaaah!"

"Yeah." She nods her head. "Purdue may not be coming, but Jack is more than happy to be on the show."

"Sure, sure..."

Ivy shakes her head in disapproval. "How petty do you have to be to make a complete dumbass of yourself." She turns off the television.

~ Hetalia... ~

**February 23, 1985 ~ Bloomington, Indiana**

The referee blows the whistle. "Technical foul on Hoosier #91."

Ivy stares at the ref in utter disbelief. "Bullshit! That's the eighth foul on us! We're barely five minutes into the game!" She stomps over to them.

One of the other refs gives Ivy the ball to make her free throw. Before Ivy can shoot for her free point, she glances over to the sidelines and sees Ida berating the ref.

"Are you blind or stupid? You might be both with these dipshit calls you and your squad have been calling!" Ida screams at the ref who called the foul.

"Ma'am, calm down."

"Calm down?! You expect me to continue playing like it's hokey-pokey, and let these dumb ducks jeopardize my team!"

He raises his hands in defense. "I'm just doing my job."

"Me, too! I'm trying to win this game, but you numbskulls make it impossible to get the job done!"

"Last chance, ma'am. Get back to your seat, or I'll be forced to give you another technical foul."

She scoffs, "Haha. Fine. Fine. Whatever. Your call." She backs off to her seat.

Just as it looks like she's about to sit down, she grabs a hold of the orange chair and flings it across the basketball court. Ivy narrowly dodges the chair, watching it bounce and slide over to the opposite side of the court. The crowd gasps at what they just saw.

"Have you lost your persimmons?!" Ivy yells at her, completely furious at her opponent.

The ref blows the whistle. "Second technical foul on Hoosier #91!"

"Yeah! Now that's a reasonable call! Keep them coming!" Ida screams like a madman. "Got your heads out of your asses yet? Do you need to me to throw another chair across the fucking court again? I got all day!"

The referee shakes their head. "You really want to get ejected from the game?"

"Of course not! I'm just giving you a piece of my mind while you stand around like a headless chicken!" Her face is boiling red. "You're a disappointment to your friends! You're a disappointment to your family! You're a disappointment to all Hoosiers, you fucked-up sack of garbage!"

"That's it!" The ref blows the whistle. "Third technological foul on Hoosier #91! Ejection from the game!"

She claps her hands. "Well done! You've become the biggest asshole in Indiana! Congratu-fuckin'-lations!" She storms off the court.

Many Hoosier fans in the stands start clapping for their favorite Hoosier as she makes her exit from the game. "Yeeeaaaahhhh!" they cheer.

Ivy shakes her head at them. "Don't cheer for her! She threw a chair!"

~ HETALIA! ~

**January 13, 1991 ~ Bloomington, Indiana**

After basketball practice, the Hoosiers head back to the locker room with smiles on their dry faces. Some of the young men are chattering about their plans for the weekend. Hanging out with friends, taking their girlfriend out to the movies, typical plans as usual. Just as they're about to strip themselves of their slightly damp gym clothes, the door slams open.

All conversations come to a sudden stop. The only sound echoing within the stone-walled locker room are Ida's hard footsteps.  _Clomp_ ,  _clomp_ ,  _clomp_ , her boots come to a halt. She stands against the wall, her boiling red eyes gaze at every player like a general commander over their soldiers. A mixture of fear and taught instinct forces every player to gather around their captain. Many of the seniors take a knee. The juniors and freshmen stand with their hands behind their back. Only a few sophomores sit on benches, casually slumping forward as though they're expecting to hear the same old story, some small pep talk to get them ready for their game on Monday.

Ida glares at the sophomores, immediately setting them straight. "You don't wanna play, then I'm getting the fuck out of here!" she snarls, peering uncomfortably close to their faces. "I mean, if you're not gonna cover Greg Graham, if you're just gonna let him drive by you," she narrows her eyes at the rest of the team, "if the rest of you are gonna let him catch the ball outside the three second lane and drive all the way in here without one guy challenging him, then I'm leaving and you fucking guys will run till you can't eat supper!"

She paces around them, making sure she gets personal with every face in the room. "Now I'm tired of this shit! I'm sick and fucking tired of an 8-10 record! I'm fucking tired of losing to Purdue!" She slams her fist into a metal locker, startling two nearby players. She leaves a dent in it, yet she isn't in the least fazed by the damage she's causing. "I'm not here to fuck around this week! Now you may be, but I'm not! Now I'm gonna fucking guarantee ya, that if we don't play up there Monday night, you aren't gonna believe the next four fucking days!" 

She paces around the room some more, her behavior more hectic. "Now I am not here to get my ass beat on Monday! Now you better fuckin' understand that right now! This is absolute fucking bullshit! Now I'll fucking run your ass right into the ground! I mean, I'll fucking run you, you'll think last night was a fucking picnic! I had to sit around for a fucking year with an 8-10 record in this fucking league! And I mean you will not put me in that fucking position again! Or, you will goddamn pay for it like you can't fucking believe!" She heads for the door, giving everyone one last demeaning glare. "Now you better get your head out of your ass!" She hard kicks the door and storms out of the locker room.

~ ...... ~

**January 15, 2005 ~ West Lafayette, Indiana**

It's double overtime, folks! Indiana and Purdue have been going at it neck and neck. The Hoosiers are currently in the lead with 75-73 on the scoreboard. However, this is the Boilermakers' last chance to make a successful play. They can either tie the score and send this game into a third overtime, or they can win the game with a three-point shot. About 5.7 seconds left on the clock. Who's going to win?

The crowd goes wild when the ref gives the ball to Ivy. The Boilermaker dribbles the ball while looking for an opening. When she finally spots one, she tosses the ball to them before making her way back to the court. The moment she makes the move, the clock resumes. Who'll win?

Ivy passes Ida. "Over here!" She gets her opponent's attention.

Ida attempts to go after her, but a Boilermaker gets in her way. "Stop them!"

Two seconds left! Ivy gets the ball back from within the paint. One Hoosier is heading over to her. Under pressure, she makes the shot. The defender is unable to block the ball. No one can't stop it.

Under a second left! The ball is high in the air. The crowd stands up, unable to blink, or they'll miss it. Ida and the Hoosiers look worried. Is it going to make it? Is it going to tie the game? The ball starts to descend. It looks good. It almost looks perfect. Will this game head into a third overtime?

The ball hits the rim of the hoop. It bounces back up. Then, it falls backwards, away from the basket. The moment it touches the floor, the buzzer sounds off. Final score: 75-73. The winner is: the Indiana Hoosiers!

The crowd goes wild.

Ida and the Hoosier run and jump about in raw excitement. "We did it! We won! We won! We won! YEEAAAAHHH!" she laughs.

One of the Boilermakers goes over to check up on Ivy. "You alright?"

"Yeah," she chuckles. "Sorry. I might've got it if I didn't panic at the last second."

"You did good though," they assure her.

She watches Ida and the Hoosiers celebrate their win. "... Yeah. This was a good game. I can't wait for the next one." She smiles to herself.

☆☆☆☆☆

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ For those who were wondering, I made 2P! Indiana more like a Hoosier: a basketball-lovin', country bumpkin with a competitive grudge to make her seem 'crazy'. As such, I felt she was more aligned with Indiana University while 1P! Indiana was more akin to Purdue University. Of course, that's my opinion.
> 
> \+ The Indiana-Purdue Rivalry is a college sport rivalry between Indiana University and Purdue University. This rivalry focuses on college basketball, however, it's important to note the rivalry is also seen in college football, volleyball, and soccer. As of February 2019, the Purdue Boilermakers lead the series with 120 wins while the Indiana Hoosiers follow behind them with 89 wins.
> 
> \+ Some of the most memorable moments in the rivalry involve Bob Knight, coach for the Indiana Hoosiers from 1971-2000. Even though his coaching style has helped the Hoosiers with many wins and tournament appearances, his fiery personality has often led him into trouble. Much of his abrasive behavior is mimicked in Ida's behavior; his most famous stunt being the chair throwing incident. Some Hoosiers like his charisma, others despise his violent outbursts. No doubt, he's a contributing factor to the rivalry.


	33. How Do You Even Get A Pet Tiger?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This episode deals with the ownership of an exotic animal. Indeed, the ownership of exotic animals is a debated topic I recommend being informed on before making assumptions or starting discussions. Overall, please don't start a dumpster fire in the comments section. You've been warned.

****

~

**February 12, 2019 ~ Houston, Texas**

Every year, Texas prepares for the Houston Livestock Show & Rodeo, a Texas-sized event that's said to be the biggest rodeo in the world (according to Texas). Such an event requires a lot of hands-on work, so it's not unusual for Texas's friends to help her out with preparations, notably those who love a good rodeo.

But this year, the Texan notices one state is missing. She can't seem to find him anywhere.

"Montana," she gets her attention, "have you seen Colorado?"

The Montanan shakes her head. "Have you tried calling him?"

"I tried, but he wasn't answering them. He texted me and said he would come later today." She grumbles, "It's already past noon. Not sure if I should be worried or pissed at him..."

Just as she's about to call him again, her phone starts ringing. She takes the call. "Colorado, where are you? You're supposed to be helping me with the-"

"Tex," he interrupts in a slow, yet serious voice, "I have something to tell you."

She makes a weird face. "You sound high... Are you-"

"I know! I know! It's illegal in your home... for now..."

She pinches the bridge of her nose and takes a deep breath. "I'm going to pretend this conversation never happened."

"Hang on! Hang on! I found something you're not going to believe."

"Is it your brain cells?"

"Close. I actually found a tiger."

"Uh-huh. Glad to hear you're having fun at the zoo." She's about to end the call.

"No, no! I mean, I know it sounds fucking crazy, but I actually found a tiger in this abandoned crackhouse."

"Why are you... Actually, nevermind." She takes a second to think about what Colorado said so far. "Are you sure what you're seeing is actually a tiger? Not some... giant dog. Or, you're not being delusional from whatever drugs you-"

"Come on, Tex! This is serious! There's this large tiger in this tiny cage within this shady house in the middle of the suburbs. I mean, there's kids playing out on the street! I doubt any of them want to be up-close and personal with a tiger. Like, I'm already freaking out being this close to the tiger's cage! Like, it's cool, but if it starts lashing at me it'll suck major balls."

She scowls. "What you're saying is hard to believe. How do I know you're not lying?"

_Beep!_

Texas is baffled by his sudden hang-up. She's about to curse when her phone makes a chime. She sees it's a message from Colorado. Attached to the message is a photo of Colorado having an adult tiger from outside a janky cage.

"Holy-" She covers her mouth.

Montana cocks her head, having listened to Texas's conversation while she worked. "What is it?"

She waves her off. "Just Colorado doing stupid things," she laughs, trying not to distract her with this new problem at hand.

Luckily for her, Montana buys her excuse. "I'll be setting up the trucks for display before I leave for the day."

"Good! Good!" She nods. "I'll be getting Colorado out of trouble, so... Yeah!"

"Alright. Take care."

"Yeah. Take care." Texas walks off. Once Montana's back is turned, her walk turns into a dash. When she gets to her truck, she texts Colorado: What's the address?

☆☆☆☆☆

"How do you even get a pet tiger?" Colorado asks Texas as they stand in profound shock, unable to take their eyes off the big, exotic cat.

She scoffs, "First off, how did you end up in this crackhouse?"

He scratches the back of his head. "Well, I wanted to get high and relieve some stress. After meeting a bunch of dudes, I ended up here. I thought it was empty until..." His arms gesture to the tiger in the cage. "Seriously, how do you even get a pet tiger?"

She shrugs. "Probably the same place you get cocaine." She takes a couple of cautious steps toward the cage, leaning down to get a closer look of the tiger. "He looks healthy and well-fed, so someone has been taking care of him."

Other than that, everything about this situation is unacceptable. The cage is by far the biggest offender. It takes up a third of the room, limiting the tiger, an animal that's known to cover miles of territory, to move around in an area of less than fifty square feet. Not only is the cell too small and too pathetic, it's too poor in condition. The barred sides are amateur in design. Not to mention, they're rusty from a lack of maintenance. If the tiger felt like it, it can easily knock the bars down and escape rather easily. It's baffling how such a majestic, endangered creature can tolerate living in prison full of moldy hay and dried feces. In fact, who in their crazy mind thinks this kind of environment is acceptable, or thinks this is a good idea?

Colorado breathes in his joint, letting the cannabis calm his frustration. "He looks so tame... You think he's trained?"

"Maybe. He probably came there as a cub, most likely taught to associate humans with food." She offers her hand to the tiger.

Colorado's eyes grow large. "Dude."

"Relax. He isn't going to hurt me." She lets the tiger sniff her hand.

"Tex. I may be high, but that's clearly not a dog. That's a tiger. And definitely not the one from the cereal box."

"You took a selfie with it. And look." The tiger nuzzles her hand. "Aw~ He likes me."

He stares at her in disbelief. "Are you getting high from the secondhand smoke?"

She scratches behind the tiger's ear, getting a happy chuff from the striped feline. "Aw~ You like that, big boy." She scratches his butt.

"Tex, we need to get this tiger outta here."

"Right." She stands straight up. "Let's take him back to my house."

"Great- wait, what?" He gapes at her. "That sounds cool and all, but you can't keep a tiger."

"Yeah, I can."

"No, you can't."

She smirks. "Yeah, I can. Watch me."

~ Hetalia! ~

"I can't believe it..." Colorado mutters.

He and Texas watch the tiger roam around in a fenced enclosure on Texas's ranch, admiring the endangered animal from a safe distance from behind a tall, sturdy, chain-link fence. The weather may be a bit chilly, but the tiger doesn't seem to mind, too busy taking in the outdoor air. For a moment, the tiger stands still, his eyes stare elsewhere, enchanted by the sunlight brightening his colorful surroundings.

'What is this?' the tiger thinks to himself. 'The air... It doesn't taste stagnant. It tastes... good. It tastes... fresh. It feels... nice. Yeah... It feels nice.' He slowly roams around his enclosure, taking his time to explore his new home.

Texas's chest puffs up with pride. "See!"

Colorado flips through a Texas lawbook. "So, it's illegal to smoke marijuana, but owning a ferocious, man-eating tiger is A-ok in your home."

"That's about right."

"That sounds backwards." He throws the book over his shoulder.

"Better than that crackhouse at least. Besides, look at him. He's clearly happy here." She points at the tiger rolling around in the grass. She softly smiles. "I think... I think that's the first time he has ever stepped foot on grass."

Despite his gripes, Colorado can't deny the enclosure Texas made is much better for the tiger's well-being. He watches the tiger roll over in the grass with a smile on his face. "Are you sure you can handle keeping a tiger?"

She raises an eyebrow. "Is that a challenge?"

"I mean, it's cool you're taking responsibility, but it's going to take a lot of work caring for him."

"So is owning three dogs, a horse, an armadillo, and a herd of Texas Longhorns. Don't get me started on the zebras and-"

"Wait, wait, wait... You have what?"

"You heard me. I got zebras, gazelles, camels, antelopes... I basically have my own safari." She carries a bucket of feed to a herd of zebras.

He can't believe his eyes. "Did you... Did you steal from Africa?"

"Have you heard of this thing called oil?" She throws a couple of beef steaks into the tiger's enclosure.

He scowls. "And people complain I'm lenient with my laws..."

☆☆☆☆☆

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ On February 12, 2019, a couple of stoners went into an abandoned house located southeast of Houston, Texas with intentions to smoke some pot. What they found inside the house surprised them: a one-year old tiger in a cage that was barely secured by a nylon strap. In concern for the animal's well-being, they made an anonymous call to get the tiger out of there. The tiger, named Tyson after "The Hangover", was taken out of the abandoned house and transported to his permanent home at Cleveland Amory Black Beauty Ranch, an animal sanctuary located south of Dallas.
> 
> \- As of April 12, 2019, some Texas lawmakers are trying to gain support for a bill that'll ban the ownership of exotic animals such as tigers. Until then, the ownership of tigers in Texas is still legal with a permit. Compared to various states like Wisconsin that are known for lax laws regarding ownership of exotic animals, Texas is 'well-suited' to maintain tigers as private pets thanks to the state's hot climate and the availability of cheap ranching land. In fact, it's possible there may be more captive tigers in Texas than the wild population left in Asia! Before anyone without a lick of common sense decides to get a tiger from their local black market, various cities like Houston ban owning tigers as pets, nor is it a good idea.
> 
> \+ Safari parks in Texas (as well as in many states) have many species of exotic animals, notably herbivores from Africa. Here, I have Texas owning a safari as a joke. But thinking about it later, it actually sounds like something Texas would actually do.
> 
> \- Texas owning a tiger is also supposed to be comedic. In reality, please don't support the illegal exotic animal trade. Just get a cat instead. For now, the tiger shown in this episode isn't 'officially' one of Texas's pets.


	34. Peepza

~

The Peepocalypse began in 1953.

Prior to that dreaded year, the fluffy candy known as Peeps was an endangered species in the genus: marshmallow. These two to three inch lumps of pure sugar were close to extinction due to their tedious reproductive system. Unlike most candies that produce multiple offspring, Peeps were produced one at a time. Peeps must be perfectly handcrafted in order for them to be adopted into their new homes. As such, it would take as long as 27 HOURS to prepare a SINGLE fucking bastard! It was a monotonous process for many Peep breeders to the point it nearly caused the end of the species.

But then a candy entrepreneur by the name of Sam Born took over the company that made Peeps. He found the breeding program to be outdated, especially in an era that was making use of modern machinery. Without delay, he reorganized the Peeps breeding program, modernizing the factory by introducing specified machinery that not only made Peeps at a faster rate of six minutes per offspring, but it also reduced costs as well. In addition to that, he said, "Hey! Americans like sickening, fluorescent colors! Let's make some pink and yellow Peeps, and see how well they do on the market!" And with that, the Peeps population made a rebound toward popularity, saving the species from extinction.

But little did the American public knew the dark truth about Peeps...

☆☆☆☆☆

       

**Pennsylvania@penny-steeler**

🐤 + 🍕 = 😍

Not long after Pennsylvania posted her latest 'invention' on Twitter, her tweet swiftly got a ton of responses.

**California@goldengurl31**

🐤 + 🍕 = 🤢 #gross

**Michigan@thewolverine26**

_@penny-steeler_

congrats you made pineapple on pizza look good

**Illinois@coolguychicago**

_@penny-steeler_

Why? Just... WHY?!?!

**Connecticut@constitutionally-correct**

I hate Peeps even more after seeing this.

**Massachusetts@ultimate-masshole**

I'm about to riot

**New Jersey@nj-d3vil**

**Missouri@misery247**

It doesn't look too bad...

**New York@ny-empire11**

_@misery247_

STFU! She should be thrown in jail!

**Iowa@thecornfarmer**

_@ny-empire11_

I don't know... I haven't tried it, so it could be good for all I know...

**South Italy@romano-bastardo**

YOU RUIN A DECENT PIZZA WITH THOSE CHEAP TASTELESS PEEP BASTARDOS! GRANDPA ROME IS ROLLING IN HIS GRAVE BECAUSE OF YOUR BROKEN STOMACH! CHIGIII!!! VAFFANCULO (GO FUCK YOURSELF)!!!

Pennsylvania could hear Romano's agonizing screams from across the Atlantic. "Oh my. Looks like I upset the Italians..." she mumbled while munching on a slice of pizza.

~ VAFFANCULO! ~

In the middle of the night, New York, New Jersey, and Massachusetts gathered outside the Peeps factory. They agreed to put an end to Pennsylvania's obsession with those fluffy, yellow fuckers. They called their plan: Operation Not A Peep.

"This whole thing is stupid," Massachusetts grumbled, "but not as stupid as Peepza at least."

"My inner Italian wants to smack her with a pepperoni sausage, but this is way better," said New Jersey.

New York shook his head. "I already gave her a pass for Peepshi, but this time she gone too far."

Somehow, the three were able to sneak their way into the factory. They made their way to a warehouse where all the Peeps were stored until they get shipped off for the market. Unfortunately, many Peeps would never make it outside the factory.

Massachusetts brought out a metal club. New York brought out a baseball bat. New Jersey brought out a flamethrower- wait, a what?!

"Where did you get a flamethrower?" New York questioned.

"Does it matter where I got it?" New Jersey smirked. He proceeded to burn a box full of blue Peeps. "Burn baby burn!" he laughed like a madman.

Massachusetts slammed his club down on a crate full of yellow Peeps. "As long as you don't burn my ass off, let's destroy these sugary pieces of shit!"

_Whap! Wham! Crackle!_

The three states crushed, pulverized, and burned every marshmallow chick they could find. They roared at the destruction they were creating.

"Cancerous lumps of cheap marshmallow, begone!" Massachusetts shouted

"You'll never terrorize pizzas ever again!" New York screamed.

"Burn in Hell, bitches!" New Jersey shrieked.

~ HETALIA! ~

About an hour later, the slaughterfest came to an end. The three states panted, surprisingly worn out from wrecking the warehouse full of Peeps.

"Gross..." Massachusetts wiped the gooey marshmallow off the sole of his shoe.

New York coughed into the sleeve of his shirt. "This is why I said to bring clubs." He waved away the smoke.

New Jersey tried to flame the last box of Peeps. When he pulled the trigger, no flames came out. He frowned. "Damn it," he groaned in disappointment.

New York swung his bat on the box of Peeps until it was completely flat. He then proceeded to stomp on it for good measure. "There! That's the last of them," he panted.

"Great!" New Jersey beamed. "We can get outta here."

"Um..." Massachusetts pointed at the door they came from.

"What is it, Masshole?"

New York and New Jersey looked back at the entrance. They were taken aback by what they saw. "What the...? How did we miss that?"

The door was barricaded by a wall of pink Peeps. The three states looked at each other, dumbfounded how neither one of them saw whoever stacked those Peeps. In fact, how did they miss that? Were they set up?

"Fuck! We're screwed!" New Jersey groaned.

"Not on my watch!" Massachusetts gripped his club and stomped toward the wall of Peeps.

With every bit of strength, the Bay Stater swung his club at the wall. He smacked the wall several times, taking chunks of marshmallow out of the wall. New York joined him on the action. Both states beated the wall many times, getting sugar all over their clothes and faces. Yet, the wall seemed impenetrable. The damage they done didn't seem to matter. In fact, the wall seemed to be regenerating.

"Why!"  _Whap!_  "Won't!"  _Whap!_  "They!"  _Whap!_  "Die!" New York grunted.

Massachusetts cursed under his breath. "It's no use. We need to find another way out of here."

They stopped to catch their breath.

"Guys..." New Jersey mumbled.

"What now?"

New York and Massachusetts turned their heads. Their jaws hit the floor when they saw the Peeps they had crushed, smashed, and burned were gone. Instead, all they saw were millions of colorful Peeps out in the open, all perfectly fine as though they were recently made. Where did they come from? And... why were all the Peeps' black, soulless eyes staring at them like satanic pawns? They looked like they were ready to murder them.

New York shook his head in disbelief. "Oh ha ha! Very funny, asshole!" He kicked a green chick like a soccer ball, sending it high into the air. "You think I'm scared of a posse of Peeps?" He stomped on a purple Peep.

_Peep!_

He froze. He gave his fellow states a nervous glance. "Did any of you say something?"

They shook their heads.

_Peep! Peep!_

New York lifted his foot off the ground. Like the T-1000, the purple Peep reformed into its original shape. "Peep! Peep!" The Peep made a bunny hop toward the New Yorker.

His eyes widened. "Gaaaaahhh!" He stomped on the Peep multiple times until it was a gooey splatter on the floor.

**_PeeEEeeEEeeep!_ ** _**PeeEEeeEEeeep! PeeEEeeEEeeep!** _

The shrills and shrieks of a million angry Peeps overwhelmed the states with horror and dread.

"What the fuck is going on?!" New Jersey screamed.

"Nice going, Yankee! You pissed them off!" Massachusetts yelled.

"Peep! Peep! Peep!" An army of purple Peeps charged at New York to avenge their fallen Peep.

New York swung his bat at them. "Stay back! I'll destroy every one of you fucks!" He swung his bat again. "I mean it!"

"PEEEEEEEEEP!" A green Peep launched itself at his face.

"Gaaah! Get off me!" He grabbed the Peep, however, three more Peeps launched themselves at him. They stuck themselves to his blonde hair and face. He screamed as his entire body became one with the orange marshmallow chicks.

"Yorkie!" New Jersey ran toward New York. He tried getting the Peeps off him, but the Peeps wouldn't get off his hands and arms. The next thing he knew, he was being swallowed up by them as well. "Mass... hole... Help...!" His hand reached out into the air, becoming the last part of his body to be swallowed up by the Peeps.

Massachusetts wanted to help his fellow states, but he was completely surrounded. He backed himself into a wall, quickly realizing his mistake. "Shit! Shit! Shit!" He swung his club at the wall of Peeps, hoping to get himself free. But the wall of pink Peeps quickly took a hold of his arms and legs. Despite his cries for help, his entire body was absorbed into the gelatinous wall. Just as the Peeps were covering his face with their sticky bodies, he thought he heard a voice. He blacked out before he could get their attention.

~ ...... ~

When a little Peep informed her of a massacre happening at the factory, Pennsylvania rushed over there like a Mother Hen. When she got to the warehouse, she expected the worst. Instead, she saw most of the Peeps were chirping like songbirds in their box-shaped nests, happy to see their favorite caretaker checking up on them. She thought it was a false alarm until she saw the mess.

Stuck to the floor were her fellow states: New York, New Jersey, and Massachusetts. They were out cold, covered in sugar and marshmallow fluff. She couldn't help but giggle at the sight.

"Are these the intruders?" She turned to the yellow Peep on her shoulder.

"Peep! Peep!" The yellow Peep bounced twice. "Peep! Peep! Peep!"

"I'm glad you and your siblings had fun with them." She looked back down at her fellow states. "Although, you might've been a little rough of them," she giggled.

"Peep! Peep!" The peep nuzzled its sugary head to her cheek.

"Yes. Let's hope they never learn of our plans..."

☆☆☆☆☆

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ In 1953, Just Born, a candy making company based in Pennsylvania, acquired the Rodda Candy Company, a company that was known for making marshmallow chicks. WIth the introduction of specialized machinery, no longer were marshmallow chicks painstakingly produced by hand (it originally took nearly thirty hours to produce a single chick). The marshmallow candy known as Peeps would go on to become a staple candy during the Easter holiday, coming in various colors, flavors, and sizes.
> 
> \- Peeps were sometimes joked to be indestructible. In fact, a bunch of scientists from Emory University tested to see how durable Peeps were. In conclusion to see whether Peeps migrate or evolve, it would appear Peeps "wouldn't dissolve in anything".
> 
> \+ Among Easter candy, Peeps would usually be placed at the bottom of most people's lists. Even so, many people were able to incorporate Peeps in creative ways. Some of the most unique recipes I found included Peepshi (Rice Krispie treat + Fruit by the Fruit roll + Peep = sushi dessert) and Peepza (Peep + Pizza = Romano's horrified screams). The latter was notably criticized for being "worse than pineapple pizza".


	35. Long Boner Johnson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This episode features indecent behavior that won't fly post-2010. Some readers may be offended than humored by this episode which is understandable. Overall, please don't create a social political dumpster fire in the comments section. You've been warned.

~

"Mr. President," Washington D.C. grumbled, "you wanted to see me?"

"Yes, I would like to discuss with you about preparations for the upcoming press conference."

"I see. I'll be waiting for you else-"

"Hang on. I want to discuss with you now. I prefer we discuss this face to face."

She held in her breath. "Sir, I mean no offense, but I think it's better for the both of us to continue our discussion in the lounge at least."

"Why does it matter?"

"... Sir, to be frank, I'm very uncomfortable talking to you like this."

The 36th President of the United States, Lyndon Baines Johnson, sat on a toilet while the capital stood outside the bathroom. To make matters more uncomfortable for her, the door wasn't closed. Any poor soul like herself who happened to walk down the hall and get called over would unfortunately have the chance to see the president do his business. The worst part: the president didn't give a shit while taking a shit.

'I'm going to murder Texas the next time I see her.' She seethed. 'I'm going to murder her. Murder her. Murder her. Murder her...'

☆☆☆☆☆

"Mr. President! What do you have to say about the increase in crime these past few months?" asked a reporter.

"Over here, Mr. President!" asked another reporter. "All this legislation to combat poverty is going to cost a lot of money. Where are these funds coming from?"

"Mr. President! Is there a reason for America to get involved in the Vietnam War?"

"I... uh..." Sweat trickled down the president's face.

D.C. stood offstage, watching her boss get swamped by reporters. 'Please don't say anything stupid. Please don't say anything dumb...' She crossed her fingers.

"According to this report, military spending nearly doubled ten years ago. Yet, during your presidency, military spending has nearly tripled. What do you have to say about that?"

"There are many protests against your latest draft, Mr. President. Tell me, sir, is this draft really necessary?"

"Mr. President, why are American troops in Vietnam?"

"I... uh..." Somewhere deep within his strange mind, fried from the constant questions, the president found an answer to everyone's questions. He quickly unzipped his pants and pulled out his miniature Johnson. "THIS IS WHY!" he boldly proclaimed.

Everyone in the room was stunned into silence.

The only sound they heard after that reveal was someone's head being banged against the wall, followed by groans of disappointment.

~ Hetalia... ~

"Mr. President, I recommend you not pull such a stunt ever again," D.C. advised while following the president across the White House lawn.

He laughed, "Oh, come on. The reporters were badgering me like a cloud of mosquitoes. Besides, it was a good answer."

"The public might say otherwise." She scowled. "I had to make a dozen bribes to keep the reporters silent from mentioning what you just pulled in the papers."

"I pulled out a good answer!"

"You pulled out a cocktail sausage!"

"What you just say?" His tone sounded dark and dangerous.

She gulped. "I... Apologies for my outburst. I shouldn't-"

"Don't apologize to me! Apologize to Jumbo!"

She made a weird face. "Jumbo?"

He unzipped his fly and pulled out his third leg. "Have you ever seen anything as big as this?" He waved it around.

"I wish I hadn't..." She shielded her poor eyes.

He huffed, "As you can see, Jumbo is no cocktail sausage. I say he's more of a bratwurst-looking fella."

Her lips formed a thin scowl. "Sir, please put your thing away."

"No way! I need to take a piss." He proceeded to firehose the White House bushes. "God almighty. My giant, heavy balls are dying in these pants. Remind me to call a tailor, so I can get some slacks that don't suffocate my nuts."

It was at this very moment D.C. wanted to quit living on Earth.

~ Hetalia... ~

D.C. was about to head home when a staffer informed her about the president needing to see her for some important business... in his bathroom. Oh no...

Shockingly, the bathroom door was closed when she arrived there. Even so, it didn't ease her concerns. She took in a deep breath and knocked on the door. "Mr. President, do you need me for something?" she cautiously asked.

"Come in."

"Uh... Why, sir...?"

"I need to show you something."

Many red alarms were set off in her head. She tried making an excuse. "Would it better for me to get Lady Bird-"

"Just get in here!"

D.C. muttered a short prayer before opening the door. She took two steps inside, her eyes on the bathroom tile. Immediately, her glasses became fogged up by steam. Normally, such a thing would annoy her. But for once in her life, she was grateful to be blind, for a couple of seconds at least.

"Yes, sir. You need me for something."

The president gave her a strange look. "Your neck broken?"

She shook her head. "No, sir."

"Then look at me when I'm speaking."

Reluctantly, she lifted her eyes off the floor. She expected to see... something. Thankfully, she saw a pair of pants and a buttoned shirt. She breathed out a sigh of relief. "Yes, sir. What is it?" She quickly cleaned her glasses.

"I would like to retrofit this bathroom," he told her.

"Oh, I see." She smiled. For once, she could finally have a normal conversation with him. "What changes do you want the staff to make to the bathroom?" She prepared a clipboard in hand, ready to take notes.

He gestured toward the shower. "I would like to retrofit this shower with an extra nozzle pointing directly at Jumbo."

In an instant, his request destroyed her hopes and dreams. She was afraid to continue this conversation. "... Sir, I don't think adding an extra nozzle is a good idea."

He furrowed his brows. "Why not? I'm the president!"

"W-Well, the plumbing, sir," she stuttered, "the plumbing for such a complex project will cost a lot of money. Plus, I don't think it's possible to retrofit a shower with an extra head, especially in a certain direction."

He pouted. "If I can move 10,000 troops in a day, you can certainly fix the bathroom any way I want it."

She wanted to argue with him, but the look in his stern eyes made her second-guess herself. "... I'll speak with a plumber about this arrangement."

He grinned. "Good. I expect to hear updates on the bathroom's progress." He proceeded to strip himself, right in front of her.

D.C. wanted to stab forks into her eyes at what she saw. "Sir, may I leave?" Her cheeks burned.

"Why you want to leave? I still have more to discuss with you." He stepped into the bathtub and sat himself down. "Boy, the water feels nice and warm. You should join me."

"Uh..."

He laughed, "Don't be shy. The tub has plenty of room."

Her right eye twitched. "I can't, sir. I can't. I just can't. I can't anymore." She stormed out of the bathroom to get herself a drink. A really, really strong drink.

☆☆☆☆☆

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ Lyndon B. Johnson, the 36th President of the United States, was known to brag about his penis he affectionately nicknamed "Jumbo". Throughout his presidency, he and "Jumbo" were known to get into various antics, all of which didn't seem to shame LBJ not one bit. Add the fact he was a bit of a womanizer, no doubt his behavior wouldn't be tolerated post-2010.
> 
> \- The video I linked to this episode was a phone call made by President LBJ to a tailor for some slacks with 'peculiar' measurements. It's incredibly bizarre, yet strangely humorous in my opinion.


	36. End Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This episode contains minor spoilers for "Avengers: Endgame". To those who already watched the movie, I recommend keeping the comments section spoiler-free in case there are individuals who have yet seen this movie. You've been warned.

****

~

**April 26, 2019 ~ Denver, Colorado**

The Four Corners Gang (Arizona, Colorado, New Mexico, and Utah) are at a movie theater to see a superhero film. Not just any superhero film. It is the conclusion to a decade-long saga known as  _Avengers: Endgame_.

"You got our tickets, Colorado?" New Mexico asks his friend.

"Yeah." He shows him the tickets. "I got the best seats in the house."

"I got the popcorn." Utah appears behind them with two tubs full of hot, buttery popcorn.

"And I got the drinks!" Arizona giggles, holding four extra large cups of soda in a cardboard tray.

"Great. Anyone need to go to the bathroom before we head inside the theater?"

"Oh my god. You're such a dad." She rolls her ways in a sarcastic manner.

"I'm just saying. The movie is three hours long."

"I'm good," Colorado assures him.

"Me, too. I went earlier," says Utah.

"Arizona?" New Mexico looks back at his sister.

"... I'll be right back." She gives him the tray before heading to the restroom.

☆☆☆☆☆

"Holy guacamole! This theater is packed," Arizona mutters.

"Excuse us. Coming through," says Utah as he and his friends head down a row and settle down in their seats.

"Dude, pass me the soda," says Colorado.

"Oh! Here you go." New Mexico hands out everyone's respective drink.

"Oh my god." Arizona gapes at her smartphone.

"What now?"

"Cali just posted her reaction on Snapchat. She's like in literal tears." She grins. "This movie is going to be lit!" She stuffs a handful of popcorn into her mouth.

"Oh no. Does that mean someone dies?" Utah worries. "I don't think my poor heart can handle it."

"Yeah. Most likely Thanos," says Colorado with a smug smile. "There's no way Marvel is going to let the good guys die. They already pulled that card in  _Infinity War_."

"Yeah. Of course Thanos is going to lose." He frowns. "I mean, if Marvel can kill off half their heroes in  _Infinity War_ , surely they aren't afraid to kill more people than Thanos in this one."

"If they are pulling that card," Arizona munches on her popcorn, "I just hope they don't kill off my favorite heroes. I'll be super mad."

"Well, let's see." Utah ponders. "They're obviously not going to kill off Spider-Man. He has his next movie coming out after this. Plus, he's Spider-Man. Then, there are the Guardians. I doubt any of them are going to be killed off before their third movie."

"I also doubt they'll kill off Black Panther and Captain Marvel," says Colorado. "It would be suicide to kill them off after the success of their first movies. Most likely, they'll be killing off the original Avengers."

"Nooo!" Arizona shouts with frightened eyes. "There's no way they would do that! I refuse to accept that possibility!"

"I mean, the posters-"

"No! No! No! I'm not going to hear it!" She places her hands over her ears.

"Guys, can you keep your voices down?" New Mexico grumbles. "I know the previews have yet to start, but the entire theater is glaring at us. Please don't get us kicked out."

"Why?" She stands up to glower at the entire room. "It's not like we're spoiling the movie! All we're doing is trying to figure out which heroes are going to die-"

_**Boooooooooo!** _

A bunch of popcorn is thrown at her. "Fine! Fine! I'll shut my mouth!" She sits back down. "But seriously, if my favorite hero dies, I don't think I'll be prepared for it."

"That's okay. I'm prepared." Utah holds up a pack of Kleenex.

~ 3 Hours Later ~

"I was wrong! I wasn't prepared!" Utah cries into the sleeve of his yellow jacket after using up every last tissue.

"Don't worry, dude. I got you." Colorado hugs Utah to comfort him after three hours of intense action and drama.

"I can't believe it... They actually did it... They actually killed off my favorite superhero..." says Arizona in an upset tone. Her eyes are too stunned to even blink at the rolling credits on screen.

New Mexico finishes the last of the popcorn. "Man, that was a great movie."

"Yeah, but at what cost?"

"About fifty bucks," Colorado slides in a joke to the lighten the mood.

"And a couple of human lives..." Utah brings down the mood before bursting into tears once again.

"It's not fair..." Her voice cracks. " I love you 3000... Just... Why?!"

"Did you enjoy the movie?" New Mexico asks.

"... Yeah, I guess..."

"Will some ice cream make you feel better?"

"... Yeah, I guess..."

The Four Corners Gang leave the theater to get themselves some ice cream.

 ☆☆☆☆☆

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ "Avengers: Endgame" is a film based on a cast of Marvel superheroes who must team up once again to avenge their fallen allies and defeat the villain, Thanos, once and for all. This episode was written and published after the film's record-breaking opening weekend. As such, I left out major spoilers that pertain to the movie's plot.
> 
> \- My review of this movie: It's awesome! At the time, I can understand why some people may be upset with aspects of this movie. Such reactions are justified; both aren't wrong. Overall, this movie is a fitting conclusion to the Marvel Cinematic Universe's Infinity Saga. As mentioned above, there'll be more MCU movies to come. It'll be interesting to see how this movie will affect various characters in their upcoming movies. Either way, I can't wait to see them when they come out.


	37. Cinco de Mayo

****

~

**May 5, 1863 ~ California, U.S.A.**

"Aiyah..." China sighed as he read the newspaper. "Why can't America get his states together? If I were him, I convince them to come back with some dim sum. That always do the trick." He sighed again. "Why am I even talking about it? I should focus on getting rest instead of worrying about America's problems. At least the war isn't anywhere near here-"

_**Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!** _

"Gaaah! G-Gunfire?" China stood up from his chair. He heard a child's screams outside the house. The face of a little, blue-eyed girl immediately came to mind, filling his heart with worry. "Suck ball! Can't I catch a break!" He grabbed a wok and chuan (spatula) and rushed out the house.

He was about to jump kick the attacker until he realized there was no attacker to be found. Instead, he found little California holding a rifle in her tiny hands. She wasn't the only one holding a rifle. There were two dozen Mexican Americans on the street, setting off their guns up high in the air, hollering in a language China couldn't understand, at least not well. He did understand they were excited about something, judging by their giant smiles and loud laughter. The only thing he didn't understand was why they were making a ruckus. The Civil War hadn't ended, nor was it America's birthday yet.

China didn't think about that question for too long. The only concern on his mind was taking the rifle out of California's hands. "Aiyah! Don't play with that!"

"Hey! That's mine! Give it back!" California protested, hopping up and down in an attempt to get her rifle back.

"No!"

"I was celebrating with mis amigos (my friends)!"

"No excuse!"

"Then, how am I supposed to celebrate Puebla's victory?"

He made a strange face. "Puebla? Is she one of America's states?"

She shook her head. "She's one of Mexico's states."

"Oh, right. I almost forgot Mexico exists..." he mumbles to himself. "What about Puebla?"

"She and the states south of the border are trying to fight off France from invading Mexico's private regions! Because of the civil war, I can't help her. Still, I'm rooting for her and Mexico to win!"

"I see."

"Last year, she won a huge a battle against France. Amazing, right?"

"I mean, it's France, so..."

"Give back my party rifle!" She jumped up and down.

"No way!" He raised the rifle above his head.

"Party pooper!" She stuck her tongue at him.

"I don't poop at parties!"

"Then, how am I supposed to show my excitement for Puebla's victory?"

"I don't know. Something that doesn't involve guns."

She pondered until her face lit up with joy. "I know! I can cook!"

"Wait. You can cook?!"

"Yeah. Why are you surprised?"

"I thought you Americans were too lazy to cook."

She crossed her arms. "Well, I can cook. I'll prove it!"

"No! I don't trust you in the kitchen."

"But it's my kitchen!" She pouted. "I can prove it! I can cook!" She rushed back inside the house.

"No! Don't! You're going to burn down the kitchen!" China ran after her.

☆☆☆☆☆

**May 5, 2019 ~ Nuevo León, Mexico**

"¡Hola, mis hermosos ángeles (Hello, my beautiful angels)!" A gorgeous woman with reddish brown hair and a pretty smile presented herself in a crimson dress. "Ah! I see you're already captivated with me. No wonder, I'm indeed muy bonita (very pretty)." She made a dramatic sigh. "Anyway, this is my first appearance on this strange show. As such, my first appearance must be flawless, or else I'll make a bad impression. Not that I ever make bad impressions because I'm perfect in every-"

"¡Oh, cállate (shut up), Puebla!" A young man with black hair and blue eyes interrupted her introduction. "You're so full of yourself!"

She placed her hands on her hips and glared at the younger state. "How dare you! I, the angelic beauty named Puebla, demand an apology!"

"¿Para qué (For what)?"

"For disrespecting me and interrupting my introduction to those who aren't familiar with me!" she huffed. "This is what happens when someone takes after the gringo and malinchista. You become a selfish regiomontano with no manners whatsoever."

He frowned. "Why are you even here? Aren't you hosting your dumb Cinco de Mayo party at your place?"

"Cinco de Mayo isn't dumb!"

"It kinda is," a young, black-haired woman with green eyes spoke up. "Out of everyone in Mexico, only you celebrate that useless holiday."

She glowered at the siblings. "Coahuila. Nuevo León. You two forget how bravely I fought against France to protect Mexico."

"Yeah. Only to lose to France the following year."

"Urk!" Puebla could feel her confidence getting stabbed.

"And because of your loss, you allowed Mexico City to get captured," Nuevo León added.

"Urk!" She felt another stab through her chest.

"And because of your obsession with that battle, every gringo thinks Cinco de Mayo is Mexico's birthday." Coahuila made the killing blow.

"Nooooo!" Puebla fell in defeat. "... W-Well," she stood right up, "fine! I was about to invite both of you to my Cinco de Mayo party, but it would appear you ungrateful Norteños don't deserve to celebrate this important day with me." She made a dramatic hair flip and stormed off.

"That's fine with us." Nuevo León waved her off. "Have fun then. We're going to watch Tejas kick Alta's culo (ass)." He and Coahuila watched the Americans duke it out on the baseball field.

California held the baseball bat with trembling hands. She laughed off her nervousness. "I-I get it, Tex! You're pissed I'm better than you at basketball! Eeeek!" A supersonic fast ball flew past her face like a speeding bullet.

"You call this better!" Texas pointed at the scoreboard. "10-4, you blonde bimbo! And that's with a red eye, too!" She hurled the next pitch with all her might.

The Californian swung and missed, getting her second strike. "I said I was sorry!"

"What about the fouls? Are you sorry for those, too?"

"Don't be ridiculous! The refs were doing their job. Besides, you were playing dirty."

"Bullshit! You played dirty first!" She launched the baseball at her.

"Aaaah!" She swung and hit the ball into foul territory. "Come on, Tex! You're making me look like an amateur!"

"Good!" She got the ball back. "Now lose like an amateur!"

"Eeeek!"

Nuevo León laughed, "Jesus Christ! Is American baseball always this intense?"

"I think it's only this intense because of them..."

"This is, like, the worst Cinco de Mayo ever..." California sulked in a corner of the dugout after striking out.

~ Hetalia! ~

Mexico was watching a baseball game on TV when he heard the doorbell rang. He got up and took a look through the peephole of his door. He frowned when he saw it was the dumb, blond gringo wearing a big sombrero and a giant pancho. He thought about ignoring him until he remembered an incident involving a broken window and gringo blood on his floor. He sucked in a deep breath and opened the door.

America smiled. "¡Hola, Mexican dude! Whatcha doing?"

Mexico grumbled, "I already told you for the millionth time, you stupid gringo. Cinco de Mayo is NOT my birthday."

He laughed, "I know that!"

"Then, why are you still making a mockery of my culture?"

"Dude, it's Cinco de Mayo! We're supposed to eat tamales, drink lots of Mexican Coke, and beat up piñatas! Where's your fiesta spirit?"

"Taking a day off. Because Cinco de Mayo is my day off."

"Cool! We can party-"

"¡No, tu imbécil (you imbecile)! There's no party! It's just my day off!"

"Then, what do you do on Cinco de Mayo?"

He fumed. "¡Nada (Nothing)!"

"Nothing?! That's boring!"

"It's better than a work day!" He groaned. "Now, leave me in peace, pinche estúpido (fucking idiot)..." He was about to shut the door.

"Hold up! Hold up! I got you tequila!" He held up a bottle.

Mexico left the door open. But only for a moment. He took the bottle of tequila off America's hands. "I'm still not paying for that damn wall," he grumbled and shut the door.

America blinked his eyes. "So, the party still on?"

☆☆☆☆☆

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ Cinco de Mayo was originally a celebration that commemorates the Battle of Puebla. On May 5, 1862, Mexican forces in Puebla, despite being outnumbered and poorly equipped, were able to force the French army to retreat. Their victory boosted morale as well as established national pride and unity, however, it was short-lived. The French army would later capture Mexico City and hold onto it until 1867. Still, the Battle of Puebla was a significant event, especially to Mexicans at the time who went against the odds to defeat a superior, European army.
> 
> \- Even though Cinco de Mayo is a national holiday in Mexico, it's not celebrated on the same scale as, say, Day of the Dead. To many Mexicans, Cinco de Mayo gives them a day off. That's it. The one exception to this case is the Mexican state of Puebla for obvious reasons. In Puebla, Cinco de Mayo is celebrated with meals, parades, and historical reenactments of the battle.
> 
> \+ How Cinco de Mayo became popular in the United States was attributed to California's Mexican American population, first celebrated in 1863. The event was celebrated in obscurity until the 1940s with the growth of the Chicano Movement. Then, throughout the 1950s-1960s, Cinco de Mayo slowly spread to the rest of the United States, however, it didn't become popular until the 1980s when marketers started capitalizing on the celebration. In the present era, Cinco de Mayo in the United States became more of a celebration of Mexican culture and heritage.
> 
> \- A common misconception with Cinco de Mayo is that it's Mexico's Independence Day. In truth, Mexico's Independence Day, aka the Cry of Dolores, takes place on September 16 and is celebrated on a par with the Fourth of July in the United States.
> 
> \+ Even though I don't celebrate Cinco de Mayo, in my opinion, I think it's fine to celebrate Cinco de Mayo as a way of celebrating Mexican culture and heritage. That's not offensive. What's not fine is being an ignorant schmuck who uses this day as an excuse to get drunk on tequila and don a stereotypical, fake mustache. That's offensive. In general, please don't be an ignorant schmuck when celebrating holidays of another culture. That's all I'll say on the matter.


	38. Otis

~

This wasn't Texas's worst hurricane, but it was close. Very close.

It was hard to believe how much rain Texas was getting in recent years. She remembered the scorching drought that brought her to her knees in 2011. She prayed to the sky for some kind of relief. Her answer came over a hundred days later: some small precipitation in a few selected areas.

She was lucky though. California's drought lasted twice as long as her's. Thank God she wasn't in her position. Yeah, she did feel bad for her. Then again, it was partially her fault for the drought's severity. It was hard not to make her situation a giant meme.

'I wonder. Is it possible to donate all this floodwater to California?' She thought to herself. It would make a nice birthday present while also making fun of that libtard.

She chuckled at the thought of California's reaction before cutting the joke off with a saddened sigh. "I shouldn't be laughing at a time like this..." She stared at the torrent floods that blocked her truck from getting across.

☆☆☆☆☆

Hurricane Harvey must've loved Texas because he hadn't left her since arriving in her home three days ago.

The last days of August were supposed to be summery, sparkling, and sunny like the shimmering waters off South Padre Island, a serene end to the summer months. Then again, the autumn months might as well be called a second summer to most, if not all, Texans. September was just around the corner. The concluding days seemed to be passing smoothly until Harvey made a stop at her doorstep.

Texas slowly drove her truck full of supplies down the soaked roads. "Shit... There has to be an accessible road somewhere..." she grumbled.

It was difficult to navigate the fourth largest city in America that was seventy percent underwater. Even though she was driving her biggest truck, large enough to drive through some of the flooded roads, there were some roads she couldn't get across unless she wanted to go whitewater rafting for the day. It was frustrating. Going down alternate roads only to be blocked by three foot torrents, it was tempting to accelerate and push through the obstacle like a shortcut. But having been through this multiple times, it was better to be wary than wind up a burden to rescuers who were already overwhelmed by the task at hand.

While traversing a neighborhood, hoping its roads would lead her to the community shelter, Texas spotted a tan coated mutt on the street. 'A stray?' she thought at first until she saw the bag of dog food the dog carried in its mouth.

Despite dire circumstances, the sight brought a smile to her face. It was clear the dog didn't need any help; it already helped itself. It held its head up high with pride, its eyes directly forward as it strolled down a street. Indeed, the dog was a true Texan. How it found a bag of dog food in midst of the storm, Texas would probably never know. Nevertheless, the dog brought a sense of hope, filling her heart with determination. No matter the difficulties, there would always be a way. It was up to us to use our strength to help ourselves and others make it through what seemed like a somber time. Seeing the dog had somewhere to go, knowing it would be alright, she didn't get in its way.

Texas left the mutt alone to find another way to the community shelter.

☆☆☆☆☆

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ Hurricane Harvey was a tropical cyclone that was originally formed on August 17, 2017. The storm reached its peak as a category 4 hurricane when it reached the Texas coast on August 25, 2017. Unlike most hurricanes that usually continue on a trajectory path, Harvey remained stationary around the Texas coast, producing heavy rainfall that quickly flooded cities such as Houston. The hurricane would eventually move through Louisiana before dissipating on September 2, 2017. Overall, Hurricane Harvey became tied with 2005's Hurricane Katrina as the costliest tropical cyclone in the United States, inflicting $125 billion in total damages in addition to 107 confirmed deaths. Later on April 11, 2018, the World Meteorological Organization retired the name 'Harvey' from its rotating list of hurricanes based on this event.
> 
> \+ On August 28, 2017, a photo of a golden retriever mix carrying a bag of dog food went viral on social media. As it turned out, the dog named Otis was a well-known resident in the town of Sinton, Texas. The bag of dog food he found came from a lumber yard, a place Otis was familiar with. Wanting to be prepared for the hurricane, Otis escaped from the house and went to the lumber yard to fetch some dog food. He was confirmed to return to his home safe and sound.
> 
> \+ I had multiples ideas I wanted to write about Hurricane Harvey. This episode could've been longer, but I decided to settle on a short episode. Looking back on it, I realized there wasn't much humor in this story. Probably because when I was writing this chapter in May 2019, Houston was raining all week and flooding as usual. That probably dampened my mood a bit. Oh well...


	39. Foremost Forgotten

****

~

**July 1787 ~ Philadelphia, Pennsylvania**

The Indian Queen Tavern was usually a hub for the political and the intellectual. Yet, at the moment, it sounded like a common pub, full of drunk faces and incredible laughter. To the ordinary American, it was a normal evening. But to the delegates of the Constitutional Convention, it was a momentous step toward achieving an ideal government.

Massachusetts was in midst of writing when New Jersey snatched his letter off the table. "Hey! Give it back!"

"What's this?" New Jersey skipped around the room. "To my lovely sister Maine, I am very touched by your most recent letter. It brought a tear to my eye for I, too, miss you so dearly. I promise when I return, I'll spend lots of time with you..." he giggled.

"S-Shut up! Shut up! Invasion of privacy!" He chased after the Jersey Devil with burning red cheeks.

Connecticut and New Hampshire watched the frantic chase while drinking some mead at their table. "You know, I should write a letter to Little Rhodey informing him about the latest developments at the convention," Connecticut suggested.

New Hampshire frowned at the idea. "I don't think that's a good idea. A letter containing progress of the constitution's development will breach the convention's rule of top secrecy."

"Ah, right... I completely forgot about that." He sighed. "Why did Little Rhodey have to be such a dick? His participation could've boosted New England's voice in this whole affair."

At another table, four Southern belles were having their own discussion to themselves.

"I can't believe we ended up relying on a Northerner," South Carolina grumbled. "If I were you, I would've threatened the room with secession if they didn't accept my plan."

"Threats would only worsen the situation." Virginia calmly drank her cup of tea. "Rather than scrutinize the past, let us look forward to tomorrow."

"It's quite odd seeing you so composed after failing to get your plan passed," Georgia noted.

"Failing? From what I recall, parts of my plan are written into the compromise. At the very least, it's better than New Jersey's plan."

"By the way, where's Maryland?" North Carolina questioned. 

Georgia gestured to the bar counter. "Somewhere we shouldn't be."

Maryland groaned, "Uh... Am I Catholic...or Protestant... God, I don't know...!" She laid her head on the counter.

"Excuse me. Is she okay?" the bartender asked New York.

"She always gets like this when she starts drinking-"

"You don't know me!" she shouted. "I'm the Old Line State! I can hold my liquor better than you any day!"

"Mary, calm down-"

"SHUT UP!" She pointed a finger at him and laughed. "I challenge you to a pint of the strongest liquor in this tavern! The loser must sing Yankee Doodle while stripping naked on top of a table!"

"Absolutely not!"

Everyone was getting along, other than Massachusetts attempting to strangle the living breath out of New Jersey. It was a rare sight, especially for Delaware.

The Blue Hen State sat at a quiet corner of the room, drinking a glass of cider to himself. He watched his fellow states make a ruckus from a safe distance. No one took notice of his isolation which was fine in his opinion. They were too busy socializing with one another, especially with Connecticut who got the credit for his compromise. His inclusion would only make things awkward. After all, he wasn't the type to play around or make gossip. He intended to drink his glass and head back to the inn without interact-

"Looks like you could use some company." Pennsylvania smiled as she took a seat at his table.

☆☆☆☆☆

She expected Delaware to look more stupefied than annoyed when she sat herself down at his table. Nevertheless, the smile on Pennsylvania's face never wavered. "Congratulations."

He raised a brow. "For what?"

"For speaking up at the meeting."

"... It was nothing."

She shook her head. "Nothing would've allowed South Carolina to punch New York in the face. What you did was something akin to leadership."

He scoffed, "I'm no leader. I'm just a small state."

"So?"

His scowled. "If that's all you have to say, I prefer to drink to myself." He took a giant swig of his drink.

She thought to further question his behavior, however, she recalled an earlier scolding she gave him. She decided to change the subject of their conversation. "You were the last person to sign the Declaration of Independence," she recalled. "What made you change your mind?"

"... Technically," he placed his glass back on the table, "New York was the last person to sign."

"Only because he had yet received permission from his representatives. But you on the other hand were allowed to decide. You initially refused to sign it, adamant of your loyalties. But then you ran through those doors at the last hour of the deadline, frantically screaming if the time to sign had passed." She chuckled, "It was quite rare seeing you so frantic, an amusing sight to say the least."

"Hmph. Fortunately for you, the time hadn't passed, allowing me to place my signature among your kind. I felt relieved, proud for a moment until you proceeded to joke about all us getting hanged. How encouraging."

She chuckled again, "Luckily for us, we're nowhere near a gallows."

He groaned, "Did my signature even mattered?"

"Of course! You were the needed vote for us to legitimize our right to independence."

He took a small sip from his glass. "Is that all I'm good for? A needed vote..."

Her smile shrunk slightly. "Well, your contributions in the war helped us greatly."

"Don't flatter me. I'm nothing special." He stared at his drink with sullen eyes. "Virginia has her leaders. New York has his harbors. You have Congress. As for myself, what do I have to offer to make myself stand out among us thirteen independent states?"

"... I heard about a bunch of blue hens." She tried to bring up the mood but to no avail.

"I guarantee my name in history will be foremost forgotten, the last to be remembered. I've done nothing to make myself stand out, and I doubt there's anything in the years to come that'll make me more famous than the minimal name recognition I get in the present. There's no need to hide this fact. I'm a small state and nothing more than that."

An awkward moment of silence permeated the stiff air between the two.

She placed a hand on her cheek and sighed. "Is there ever a happy moment you say anything positive?"

He, too, let out a sigh. "I may look and sound like a brooding simpleton who does nothing to fix his insecurities. But I can assure you I'm okay with being a small, forgotten state."

She cocked her head. "Are you sure?"

"... Positive. Fame is the least of my concerns. What I care about the most is the future, what happens after tonight."

She pondered over his words for a moment. "Do you think we can make it on our own?"

"... No," he finished his drink, "it's impossible under current circumstances." He looked directly at her with determined eyes. "I'm placing all my hopes into this constitution. I may not be able to do much to influence what's written, but I'll do my utmost damnedest to support it under the condition it helps states like me."

She smirked. "Well, we still have a lot of work to do."

"You're right." He stood up from his seat and placed a couple of silver coins on the table. "I'm off to bed now."

"I'll see you tomorrow." She waved.

He waved back. "Take care." He walked out of the tavern and into the night.

She sat back in her seat. "Oh, Delaware. Small and boring as you are, you can still surprise me." She took a sip of her coffee.

☆☆☆☆☆

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ Compared to other states, Delaware doesn't particularly stand out. Nothing bad stands out. Nothing good stands out. As such, it's easy to forget Delaware's existence. Of course, I have nothing against Delaware although I wish there's more interesting content on the state to make them sound interesting at the very least.
> 
> \+ This episode is a follow-up to a story involving Delaware's perspective in the Connecticut Compromise (see Chapter 1 in "Hetalia: The Fifty Stars"). This is also based on a request regarding Delaware's feelings of being forgettable among the Original Thirteen. As sad as it sounds, my Delaware OC is used to the lack of attention. He does get annoyed whenever he's compared to popular states, however, he tends to keep such negative emotions to himself.


	40. Tardar Sauce

~

"Meow~ Basking on the balcony after breakfast is the best~"

Marylico cat loves the sun's warmth. She isn't allowed to leave the house, but that's fine with her. She isn't too fond of worrying her owner with her disappearance. After all, her owner adores her very much. She gives her the most delicious food as well as provide her with much love and attention. It won't be right to cause her distress. Besides, she can always admire the outside world from the safety of the balcony.

She curls up into a ball and closes her eyes. Just as she's about to drift off to a dreamy island full of crabs and cat toys, a stranger's purr forces her eyes awake. She stares up at a Snowshoe cat sitting on top of the railing.

"I see you're enjoying yourself," the Snowshoe purrs in amusement.

"Meow~ What do you want, Pussyvania?"

"It's PUSS-sylvania!" the Snowshoe bristles with a wagging tail. "To answer your question, I'm here to inform you about a funeral at Abysona's house."

"A funeral?" Her whiskers twitch. "Whose funeral?"

"A cat named Tardar Sauce."

"Tardar Sauce? What's so special about a cat named after a condiment? A very delicious one I may add."

"Apparently, she's famous in this place called the Internet."

"Are you going?"

"As a Snowshoe cat, the death of a fellow Snowshoe is of great importance to me."

She yawns and stretches. "Well, I can't go whether I want to or not. I hate to upset my owner."

She purrs, "Alrighty then. I'll be away for some days." She leaps off the balcony.

Marylico proceeds to clean her fur. She stops midway at a terrible realization. "Did she just fall from the second story building?" She looks down the balcony with terrified eyes.

☆☆☆☆☆

"Today, we mourn for the loss of a special kitty known as Tardar Sauce," says Abysona, an Abyssinian cat from Arizona.

She speaks to a clowder of cats who have gathered behind the home of the deceased. Friends of the dead comfort the relatives. Curious strays offer their prayers. Queens bow their heads in respect. Their kittens frolic around the sandstone gardens, indifferent to the funeral's somber atmosphere. One of the celebrities, Lil Bub, takes the death of her fellow dwarf in classic Hemingway fashion: sulking with a bowl of milk at their poly-toed feet. Obviously, Tardar Sauce's departure has left everyone in a grumpy mood.

Even Abysona is having a hard time trying to uplift their spirit above the sorrow. Despite such pestering emotions, she wills herself to give her eulogy to those in attendance. "Many cats and humans knew Tardar Sauce when she became famous in this place called the Internet. They knew her as Grumpy Cat, a mean-looking cat that loved to make snarky comments. For some reason, that made a lot of humans laugh. Even though Tard wasn't the type of cat to be grumpy, she went along with it. And just like that, she became famous before her first birthday.

"It was fun," she once told me after returning from a book signing in Los Angeles. She couldn't read, obviously. But she figured her mommy must've wrote some good things about her. She knew it was good because a lot of humans came to the bookstore to buy her books. She remembered seeing their faces when they saw her. It was all good. They petted her, took photos of her, it was tiring, but she had fun she told me.

Out of all her trips, one of her favorite places was Austin, Texas. First class flights, a private hotel room with a king-sized bed, a personal assistant, and a chauffeur, all of that was nice. But then she told me she got unlimited Friskies Savory Shreds for free. For free! Like, she's so lucky! All of that for her to take six hundred photos with a bunch of strangers. Meow~ She even got a vampire falling for her. Like, how cool is that!

She was everywhere. Commercials, magazines, talk shows, news shows, a singing contest, a reality TV dating game, her face was plastered all over the place. She even got to watch a bunch of humans wrestle in front of her. "It was weird, but it was still a fun experience," she told me..." Her eyes stare solemnly at the clowder.

"... If I could, I would give her one of my lives, so she could continue travelling, making humans laugh wherever she went," she says in a saddened voice. "Her frown has made millions smile on a daily basis. Though her death has brought a scowl on her faces today, for her sake," a small smile appears on her face, "let us smile tomorrow, so she can see us smile from heaven once again." She bows her head. "Rest in peace, Tardar Sauce. Rest in peace."

~ Nekotalia! ~

Many eulogies later, the funeral comes to an end at dusk. Few cats remain to pay their respects. Pussylvania and the rest of the Fur Corners Gang wait on Abysona to say her goodbyes to Pokey, one of Tardar Sauce's littermates.

"I still can't believe Grumpy Cat died this soon. Seven years is too short," says Utom.

"The world won't be the same without Grumpy Cat," says New Rexico.

"Yeah..." Catorado agrees. "I wonder who'll take her place."

Pussylvania cocks her head. "What do you mean?"

"I heard many cats are trying to become the next Grumpy Cat."

"Impawsible." New Rexico frowns. "Grumpy Cat is too iconic to be replaced."

"True, but that won't stop frowny-faced felines from trying."

"It kinda seems wrong to replace Grumpy Cat. The original one, I mean..." Utom mumbles.

"I get what you mean," New Rexico sides with him.

"I think it's inevitable," says Catorado. "Humans love cats, so it kinda makes sense they'll try to find another Grumpy Cat that'll make them happy again. I can't blame them for feeling this way."

He sighs. "I guess there's nothing wrong with bringing a smile on people's faces."

Pussylvania purrs. "I like to think Tardar Sauce feels honored having a successor carry the torch."

"Or, she might not care," Catorado chuckles.

His friends chuckle with him, clearing the gloom with smiles instead of scowls on their faces.

May Tardar Sauce aka Grumpy Cat rest in peace.

☆☆☆☆☆

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ Prior to Internet stardom, Tardar Sauce was an 'ordinary' cat from Morristown, Arizona. She was born with feline dwarfism and an underbite, resulting in a small cat with short legs and a permanent frown on its flat face. Despite the cat's grumpy appearance, "ninety-nine percent of the time she is just a regular cat," according to her owner.
> 
> \- On September 22, 2012, the owner's brother posted a photo of Tardar Sauce on Reddit. The image went viral and became the Internet meme known as Grumpy Cat. Since becoming Internet famous, Tardar Sauce and her owner would make various media appearances as well as promote their own brand.
> 
> \+ Sadly, on May 17, 2019, Tardar Sauce's owner announced on social media the death of Grumpy Cat following complications from a urinary tract infection. It was a sad day on the Internet. For many years, the cat's cynical frown had lifted the spirits of many people. Even after death, Grumpy Cat would continue to live on in memes and the hearts of millions.
> 
> \+ For this special episode, I decided to base it on Nekotalia. Having looked the subject up before writing the episode, I didn't want to simply call them "Maryland cat" or "Pennsylvania cat". Overall, I hope to do more episodes on Nekotalia in the future.


	41. First Time in Franchise History

~

**May 21, 2019 ~ Boston, Massachusetts**

After destroying North Carolina's hockey prospects in a four-game sweep (oof), Massachusetts patiently waits to see who'll be his opponent in the Stanley Cup Finals.

Like many people, he underestimates the underdogs' tenacity for championship glory. Their unique ability to take down veterans and playoff leaders has shock the National Hockey League, making this year an unpredictable, yet entertaining show to watch. His bet on Dallas is gone. Instead, the Bruins are either going to face the St. Louis Blues or the San Jose Sharks. Both possibilities sound unbelievable. After all, both teams have never won a Stanley Cup. Yet, here he is watching them compete in the Western Conference Finals on his home television.

"... Looks like I'm going to face Missouri in the Stanley Cup Finals," says Massachusetts as the final seconds of the Western Conference Finals tick down to zero.

He gets up from the sofa and walks over to a shelf full of trophies. "It has been a long time since I've won a championship." He makes a dramatic sigh while staring at one of his six Vince Lombardi Trophies, still new and shiny since February. "If history repeats itself," a chortle escapes his lips, "I'll be reliving 1970 all over again."

His chuckle grows into a sinister laugh. "Another sweep! Another championship! Another parade for Boston! The Stanley Cup is mine for the taking!"

☆☆☆☆☆

**June 12, 2019 ~ Boston, Massachusetts**

"Unbelievable!" Massachusetts gapes from behind the glass.

Missouri skates around the ice rink, lifting her first Stanley Cup above her head for the world to see.  _"Are the voices in your head calling, Gloria? Gloria, don't you think you're fallin'?"_  she sings the '80s pop song at the top of her lungs. Her fellow Blues fans sing along to the catchy retro tune.

He bangs his forehead against the glass. "I can't believe it! I lost to a dead last team from Nowhere, America! My dreams are ruined!"

"Oh, shut up, you big baby!" Missouri skates past him and continues to sing.  _"A-ha-ha, a-ha-ha, Gloria, how's it gonna go down? Will you meet him on the main line, or will you catch him on the rebound?"_

He scowls. "I guess I have baseball to look forward to..."

~ Gloria! ~

**June 13, 2019 ~ Oakland, California**

"WE THE NORTH! WE THE NORTH!" Ontario hollers. "WOOOOO! WE THE CHAMPS!" He douses himself in champagne.

Sitting from VIP seats, California, New York and Texas watch the entire celebration unfold, unsure of their feelings at the moment.

"I feel stupid..." Texas grumbles.

"You were always stupid," says New York.

She doesn't make the effort to argue with him. "Normally, I would've been happy seeing California get her ass handed to her. But this was... bittersweet." She groans. "I wonder if it's too late to ask Kawhi to come back to San Antonio..."

New York slumps back in his seat. "How in the world did Linsanity win a championship before Carmelo?" He does his best not to scream.

As they continue to sulk over their poor decisions, both states notice California has yet to say a word since the end of the game. Not a single muscle on her body has moved, her slumped over posture remains still like a statue. Her eyes remain on the floor, covered up by her hands over her forehead.

Texas shakes her shoulder. "Hey. Aren't you going to whine? Pout? Or, react at all?"

Her lips tremble, appearing to mumble something.

"What was that?" New York moves his ear closer to her.

"... I should've won."

"What?"

"I should've won!" She lifts her head and a clenched fist, showing a fire in her eyes. "If it weren't for injuries, the Warriors would've won!" She wipes her eyes, trying hard not to break down into tears.

Texas blinks her eyes. "Well, you have a nice run while it last-"

"What are you talking about?! The dynasty isn't over!"

New York scowls. "Dude. Klay and K.D. aren't going to be the same because of those ACL injuries. Plus, there's free agency and-"

"They just need some time to recover!" She continues to be in denial. "They won't leave. They love playing here. Once they're healthy again, the Warriors will be unbeatable. They'll be back to reclaim another championship. They'll be back!" She narrows her eyes at the Ontarian. "Relish being champions for now. But mark my words, I'll be back!"

Ontario continues to celebrate with the Larry O'Brien Trophy in hand. "O CANADA! OUR HOME AND NATIVE LAND..."

☆☆☆☆☆

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ To those who plan on reading the endnotes, I want to first apologize for going overboard with what's written below. I can easily shorten the notes to the championships these teams won, however, I hate to "erase" their history, nor do I want to downplay the obstacles these teams went through. Overall, I hope everyone can appreciate the excitement of their historic wins.
> 
> \+ The St. Louis Blues are a professional ice hockey team based in St. Louis, Missouri. They were originally formed in 1967 as part of the National Hockey League's (NHL) expansion. During the team's initial years, they were able to make multiple playoff appearances as well as appear in the Stanley Cup Finals in 1968, 1969, and 1970. Unfortunately, the team wouldn't win any of those Stanley Cup appearances. Since then, the team underwent hardships: losing games, enduring bad management, and having financial problems that nearly forced the team to relocate. However, things were looking up for the franchise since they started rebuilding in the late 2000s.
> 
> \- Despite adding incredible talent to its roster during the off-season, the St. Louis Blues had an abysmal 15-18-4 start in the 2018-2019 season. By January, they were dead last in the NHL. It was so bad, their head coach was fired in the middle of the season due to their poor performance. Under such circumstances, it would've been easy for the Blues to give up. After all, many people had already written them off from contending in the playoffs. Yet, the Blues didn't give up. In a miraculous turnaround, the St. Louis Blues made a 30–10–5 run to contend in the playoffs, ranking third in the Central Division.
> 
> \- During playoffs, the St. Louis Blues would go on to defeat the Winnipeg Jets in the First Round, eliminate the Dallas Stars in the Second Round, and beat the San Jose Sharks in the Conference Finals before going to the Stanley Cup Finals to compete against the Boston Bruins, an Original Six team who long ago beaten the Blues in the 1970 Stanley Cup Finals. Through seven tough games, the St. Louis Blues came out on top to win their first ever Stanley Cup, putting an end to one of the longest Stanley Cup droughts in the NHL.
> 
> \+ The Toronto Raptors are a professional basketball team based in Toronto, Ontario. They were originally formed in 1994 as a part of the National Basketball Association's (NBA) attempt to expand into Canada. Like any new team, the organization struggled to compete with its older, more established opponents in its initial years. There were periods of success with the acquisition of talented players, however, the organization never once made it to the Championships, nor had they won a Conference title until 2019.
> 
> \- There were many reasons for the Raptors' success during the 2018-2019 season. Key players such as Kawhi Leonard, Pascal Siakam, and Kyle Lowry were effective in dominating their opponents. The departure of LeBron James from the Cleveland Cavaliers and the Eastern Conference gave the team an opportunity to take control of the East. Lastly, what probably pushed the team to strive for a trophy were the millions of Canadians who wanted the Canada-based team to make history. No doubt, the Raptors were determined to win.
> 
> \- While there were many people who believed the Raptors would win the Eastern Conference, there were doubts of their success in the 2019 NBA Finals against the Golden State Warriors, a team made up of veteran All-Stars who were participating in their fifth consecutive trip to the NBA FInals. Thankfully, the Warriors didn't sweep the Raptors like last year's sweep of the Cavaliers in the 2018 NBA Finals. The Raptors gave it their all as were the Warriors who managed to keep their opponents on their toes despite injuries. After six games, the Raptors won their first Championship in franchise history.


	42. Go to Gay Hell

~

Michigan heaves out an empty sigh. "Let me get this straight."

"Don't you mean gay?" California giggles.

"I..." She holds back a scream. "You want to buy one of my towns. No joke?"

"I mean, it kinda is." She scratches the back of her head. "You have a town called Hell, right?"

"Uh... yeah?" Michigan thinks, 'Where's she going with this?'

"Um, I heard it's for sale or something like that. I was wondering if I can, like, buy it from you." She rummages through her pink purse.

"Well, yeah. It's for sale. But why should I sell it to you?" She glares at her with suspicion. "What do you plan on doing with it?"

"That's a secret," she says with a sly grin.

That doesn't sound convincing, at least to Michigan. "Don't think I've forgotten."

"Forgotten what?"

"You pulled this stunt before! You gave me money to become the Mayor of Hell, and that turned out to be the stupidest deal I ever made."

She disagrees, "I thought it was the best decision."

"You banned heterosexuality and got impeached the same day! The same day!"

"Yeah. The best decision." She continues to rummage her purse.

Michigan groans, "Look. I'm not in the mood to deal with stupid sensationalists and bigoted bastards because you decide to turn a town into a meme. I don't care about money. I won't sell the-"

California slides a check face down across the picnic table. "Are you sure about that?"

Michigan raises an eyebrow. Despite better judgement, curiosity gets the better of her. She takes the check and flips it over. Her eyes turn into dollar signs when she sees the number of zeroes on the check. She tucks the check into her suit jacket before giving the Californian a pen and a deed to Hell.

"Sign here." She points to an empty line at the bottom of the page. California signs her signature on the contract. They proceed to shake hands afterward. "Congratulations. You're the owner of Hell."

A sinister smirk grows on the Californian's face. "Awesome!" she laughs.

☆☆☆☆☆

The seventy or so people of Hell gather in a town hall, grumbling among themselves while they wait.

"Do you know what's going on?"

"No idea."

"I was tending to the diner when they told me to stop what I was doing and go with them."

"This is ridiculous. Couldn't they host the town meeting some other day?"

Their conversations come to a halt when a young woman with yellow hair and the tan of a bikini model steps forward behind the podium.

Despite looks of confusion and disgust, California manages to keep a gay smile on her face. "What's up, dudes and bros!" She waves at the crowd and the camera that's situated at the back of the room. "To those who don't know, I'm the hella famous Golden Gurl from YouTube, and I just became the Mayor of Gay Hell!" She throws rainbow confetti into the air.

The crowd gawks at her. "Huh?!"

~ Hetalia! ~

"What are you talking about? This is Hell, Michigan!"

California nods. "Yeah, but Hell sounds fucking boring. Like, it's so boring it makes Boring, Oregon look like an amusement park. In an era where fuck, shit, and hell are becoming common in conversation, this town needs to stand out. And what better way than to make this entire town fabulously gay!" She throws more rainbow confetti into the air.

A forty year old woman from the audience frowns. "Please tell me you're not going to ban straight people. One of our previous mayors done that, and let me tell you. They were gone before the sun went down the day they announced it."

"O-Of course not. That would be ridiculous," she awkwardly chuckles before gathering her composure. "Everyone is welcome in Gay Hell. I assure you not much will change beyond the town's name."

"Thank goodness," the woman breathes a sigh of relief.

"I don't know," an old man grumbles. "Gay Hell sounds like an oxymoron. Won't people get the wrong idea about us? I mean, I'm not gay, but I'm no bigot."

"No problem!" she assures them. "As for my second act as Mayor of Hell, I hereby declare every flag flown in this town be the gay pride flag! No other flag shall fly in this town, not even the American flag! Only pride flags are allowed!" She beams.

"This is ridiculous!" A patriotic homophobe stands up in protest. "You can't do that!"

She glowers at the pathetic person. "Yeah, I can. I'm the fucking mayor, bitch."

"What you're doing is a disservice to America!"

"The only disservice to America is your bigoted breath stenching up the place." She pinches her nose in a comical manner.

The homophobe grits their teeth. "Are we seriously going to put up with this?" They turn to the rest of the townsfolk.

"I mean," one of them shrugs, "Gay Hell doesn't sound all that bad."

"What?!"

"Yeah. It's LGBT Pride month. No harm flying pride flags around town," says another person.

The homophobe huffs upset. "Well, fuck all of you. I'm leaving." He storms out the building.

California waves them off. "Again, everyone is welcome in Hell... except assholes. Agreed?"

"Agreed!"

She smiles. "Fabulous!" She throws more rainbow confetti into the air.

~ Hetalia! ~

"Okay! California speaks to a group of construction workers, showing them a blueprint of her plans. "Here is where we're going to build a modest, pink mansion. We'll need to-"

"Why pink?"

She gives the worker a stupefied look. "Because it's fabulous! That's why!"

"California!" Michigan stomps over to her. "We need to talk."

"Oh, hey!" She waves. "What's up?"

"You've been impeached."

She gapes at her. "Excuse me?!"

"You're no longer the Mayor of Hell. The rest is history." She walks away from her.

California gets in her way. "W-Wait a moment! What do you mean I've been impeached? I haven't done anything wrong!"

Michigan shows her the contract. "You should've read the fine print."

She takes the contract and reads the paragraph that states the length of her term in office. "Three days?! You... You tricked me!"

"No, I didn't. The only trick I pulled was on the Butteye two days ago. You only got yourself to blame."

She whines, "You were supposed to be pure! It said so on the sign!" She points to a sign that says: IF IT'S PURE MICHIGAN, WELCOME TO [GAY] HELL.

"In Hell, I'm not," she snickers. "Tell you what. I'll make a deal with you."

"Heck no! I'm not letting you trick me again." She sticks her tongue at her.

"Heh. Fine then." She walks away. "I guess I'll find someone else to sell Hell to..."

"... Hang on." California grabs her shoulder. "... I'm listening."

She smirks. "I can sell you a portion of Hell determining how much you're willing to pay. What you do with that space is up to you to decide."

"So, I can build my super-duper, fabuloso, pink mansion?"

"Sure. If that's what you want to do, I won't stop you. All you need to do is pay for the land you'll be owning." She brings out a couple of documents. "Here's a map and a list of prices. When you're done picking the area you want to own, sign right there," she points to the blank line at the bottom of a certificate, "and you can brag to all your followers you have your own place in Hell." She makes a little wink.

She giggles, "You can count me in!" She proceeds to survey the area in excitement.

The little devil on Michigan's shoulder cackles in amusement. "With her money, I'll be able to fix Detroit in no time."

☆☆☆☆☆

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ Hell, Michigan is an unincorporated community located northwest of Ann Arbor. According to the official website, Hell, Michigan: "First settled in 1838 by George Reeves [which] started out as a grist mill and general store on the banks of what is now called Hell Creek. George's habit of paying the local farmers for their grain with home distilled whiskey led many wives to comment "He's gone to Hell again" when questioned about their husband's whereabouts during harvest time. The name stuck, and "Hell" became an official town in 1841; the rest is history."
> 
> \- Despite its small size, there's plenty of things to do in Hell. The town has its own diner, ice cream parlor, saloon, kayak rental, mini-golf course, souvenir shop, post office, and even its own university called Damnation University (or Damn U in short). To anyone looking for a place to host a wedding, look no further because Hell has its own wedding chapel, the perfect place to marry. Heck, there's even an option to buy and own a square inch of Hell! How cool is that!
> 
> \+ Among the things to do in Hell, there's an option to become the temporary Mayor of Hell, for a cost of course. Elijah Daniel, a YouTuber living in California, did exactly that in June 2019. He bought the town and became the Mayor of Hell for three days. During that time, he temporarily changed the town's name to Gay Hell and only allowed pride flags be flown. His actions were in protest of Trump's order to ban gay pride flags from being blown at U.S. embassies during LGBT Pride Month. He also did it for laughs because he's a self-described "asshole" who wanted to push boundaries for Pride. To those who may be wondering, the unofficial Mayor of Hell, John Colone, was cool with his decision.
> 
> \- On a side note, this wasn't the first time Elijah Daniel pulled such a stunt. In August 2017, he became the Mayor of Hell for a day and banned heterosexuals. He was impeached that same day, but it wasn't because of the ban. As of June 2019, he's currently engaged to a fellow YouTuber, Sam F aka Dr. Woke, with plans to have his own wedding in Gay Hell one day. How sweet.


	43. W.B.C. vs. Wizard Wedding

****

~

**June 7, 2015 ~ Topeka, Kansas**

"Gay marriage is a sin!"

"America is doomed!"

"Dumbledore burns in Hell!"

"God hates Ireland and J.K. Rowling!"

"Harry Potter sucks!"

The small, yet raucous group of protestors belonging to the Westboro Baptist Church are causing another ruckus as usual, much to the ire of most Americans.

Kansas and Maryland watch their vileness from across the street, standing on the side where a rainbow colored house full of love and peace is about to host a beautiful wedding. Over two hundred people are in attendance, all of whom are doing their best not to pay any attention to the abhorrent words vomiting out of the ugly trolls that face their backs. The battle between love and hate wages on. Who'll win?

Maryland pulls a wand out of her Ravenclaw robe and points it at the pickets. "Confrin-"

Kansas of the Hufflepuff delegation grabs her wrist in a panic. "Nooo! What are you doing?!"

"Isn't it obvious? I'm going to put an end to this!" She raises her wand. "Con-"

"Don't let them get to you!"

She stops herself short from casting the curse. She grits her teeth. "... Avis!" 

A flock of Baltimore orioles conjures out of a blast of smoke. The black and yellow birds fly toward the protestors like miniature missiles, following the frightened haters as they flee from the avian nuisance.

Maryland blows the smoke off the tip of her wand before putting it back in the sleeve of her robe. "Love wins." She smirks.

She and Kansas return to the wedding going underway.

☆☆☆☆☆

The orchestra begins to play the "Harry Potter" theme as a gray bearded man in royal purple robes makes his way down the grassy aisle. The first group to cheer for their grandmaster are the Gryffindors who express their approval with loud excitement. Following their lead are the Hufflepuffs with a round of applause. The Ravenclaws simply watch with noble eyes; some smile when the wizard walked past them. As for the Slytherins, they also express their support now that their view on muggles has changed, allowing them to appreciate what their professor has done for their school. Purebloods, muggles, everyone in attendance express absolute joy seeing Albus Dumbledore walk down the aisle.

Once Dumbledore reaches the end of the aisle, the orchestra starts to play "The Lord of the Rings" theme. The lucky person to marry Dumbledore is also a bearded wizard, one from a different magical world. His robes are shining white like a bridal dress, matching the color of his hair and the staff he uses to support his walk down the green lawn. Accompanying him down the aisle is the ringbearer, a small creature known as a hobbit to most mortals and magical beings. But to Gandalf the White, he's Bilbo Baggins, a good, old friend who supported his decision to marry who he thinks will bring harmony to his long life on Middle-earth.

When both wizards meet face to face, the pastor, dawning a rainbow colored sash, appears before them behind the podium. He gestures the audience to take their seats and to remain quiet as he prepares to speak before the wizards. "To all present I say: We are gathered here, not to witness the beginning of what will be, but rather what already is. We do not create this marriage, because marriage is created in the hearts of two loving people. We can and do, however, gather to celebrate with Albus Dumbledore and Gandalf the White the wondrous and joyful occurrence that has already taken place in their lives, and the commitment they make today."

A couple of people from the crowd clap their hands.

He lets them clap before continuing to speak. "... Love had brought them from different realms, yet their feelings for one another remained the same. Against the destructive forces of evil, together they fought to bring happiness to the world around them. As committed as they were to bring balance to the landscape, they came before us today, seeking not only the continuation of their work toward peace but to affirm their loyalty toward one another. Having went through so much, they understood the choice to join in unity would be a powerful force that would protect their love and overcome the opposing darkness that wished to harm them. Should they vow to be by each other's side, it would be a momentous victory for everyone."

He turns to the White Rider. "Gandalf the White, will you have Albus Dumbledore to be your husband, and will you love him faithfully as long as you both shall live?"

"I do," says Gandalf.

The pastor looks to the other wizard. "Albus Dumbledore, will you have Gandalf the White to be your husband, and will you love him faithfully as long as you both shall live, recognizing that he has a tendency to come back from the dead?"

The audience chuckles at the last part.

"I do," says Dumbledore with a humble nod.

Bilbo Baggins presents the rings. The wizards place the rings on each other's ring finger before looking to the pastor for his approval.

The pastor softly smiles. "By the power invested in me, I pronounce the marriage between Albus Dumbledore and Gandalf the White."

The wizards place a peck on each other's lips. Together, Dumbledore and Gandalf turn to the cheery crowd with smiles underneath their thick beards. They walk down the aisle hand in hand, bringing joy to all who see their union, proving love has no boundaries. That love can cross different dimensions to become reality. No matter how dark and depressing things may be, love will always overcome hate.

Maryland wipes a tear from her eye. "This is the best crossover wedding in history," she sniffles. "Nothing can top this."

Kansas smiles. "I always love happy endings."

☆☆☆☆☆

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ The events that led to this crossover wedding resulted in a weird, yet satisfying story. It all began in May 2015 when the Republic of Ireland conducted the Marriage Equality referendum. Over 60% of the votes favored the passage of the Marriage Equality Bill, ensuring the recognition of same-sex marriage in a country where a majority of its citizens were Catholic. It was a huge victory for the LGBTQ community.
> 
> \- In midst of that celebration, J.K. Rowling made a tweet that suggested Gandalf the White from "The Lord of the Rings" and Albus Dumbledore from "Harry Potter" could get married in Ireland. In response, the Westboro Baptist Church (W.B.C.), a religious organization known for hate speech as well as other spiteful activities, claimed they would picket if the wedding were to happen. To which, J.K. Rowling responded: "Alas, the sheer awesomeness of such a union in such a place would blow your tiny bigoted minds out of your thick sloping skulls."
> 
> \+ When Aaron Jackson, founder of the nonprofit humanitarian organization known as Planting Peace, saw the tweets between J.K. Rowling and the W.B.C., he felt obligated to turn J.K. Rowling's idea into a reality. On June 7, 2015, Planting Peace staged the wizard wedding at the Equality House, taking place across the street from the W.B.C.'s headquarters. To quote J.K. Rowling, it was sheer awesomeness.


	44. Roller Coaster Rivals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This episode features a made-up challenge that'll make anyone sick if they attempt to do it. Do NOT imitate this challenge in real life. You've been warned.

****

~

**June 12, 2019 ~ Sandusky, Ohio**

It's another bright and busy day at Cedar Point: one of the largest amusement parks in the United States. Business is booming as usual. Every attraction is occupied with lines, full of excited thrill riders who are enjoying their summer vacation thus far.

Well, except for Iowa.

He sits on a bench in front of a roller coaster, using his imagination to distract himself from boredom. Don't get him wrong. He loves going to amusements parks. His only gripe are rides that involve crazy heights; his heart can't contain all that anxiety. Unfortunately, he can't simply walk to the adjacent water park where Indiana, Kansas, and Nebraska are having fun splishing and splashing around. Instead, he'll have to spend the entire day doing one job: referee.

After losing in a game of rock-paper-scissors, Iowa is forced to oversee what he thinks is a dumb and dangerous contest between Ohio and Pennsylvania. It's called the Cedar Point Challenge: a made-up game between two roller enthusiasts who won't admit California is  _the_  coaster champ. The goal of this game: to ride Cedar Point's seventeen roller coasters without throwing up, going to the restroom, or forfeiting from the competition. Normally, riding all seventeen roller coasters isn't a problem, at least to hardcore coaster enthusiasts. However, Ohio and Pennsylvania decide to make this wild game a sadistic challenge by including food as a "fun" factor. Therefore, the likelihood of a winner and a loser becomes more apparent as they continue riding roller coasters throughout the day.

As the referee of their immature contest, Iowa is tasked with the spinner. Every four rides, the spinner will choose which food or drink the competitors will have to consume. A slice of pizza, a bowl of frozen custard, a cup of Icee, you get the point. As everyone knows, food and motion sickness don't go well together. Yet, it's exactly what Ohio and Pennsylvania want to see when their opponent barfs and bows down to them.

In case some are wondering, don't worry. Iowa also has the job of being this contest's "doctor" if something does go horribly wrong. He can only hope nothing bad happens. Hopefully...

So far, no one is vomiting. That's partially because the roller coasters Ohio and Pennsylvania are riding so far are "junior coasters". Wilderness Run, Woodstock Express, and Cedar Creek Mine Ride are perfect for beginners. But to experienced thrill seekers, they're acceptable at best.

It isn't until they get to Blue Streak where the challenge actually begins.

"AAAaaaAAAaaahhh!"

Everyone has their arms above their head when the train takes a 72 foot punge down a 45° degree slope. Their moderate screams rise and fall and rise and fall again. They catch their breaths on a climb, only to lose it when they make a sudden 180° degree turn. Up and down, they go. Up and down, they go again. And up and down, once more. Until at last, the train hits its brakes. A steady chug back to the platform, the train gives off a hiss before coming to a complete stop.

Ohio and Pennsylvania are the first to hop out of the train. When they meet up with Iowa outside the attraction, both seem pleasant. Not excited or bored. Just pleasant in demeanor. Which to Iowa is quite unnatural considering they're at odds at the moment.

But then, Pennsylvania opens her mouth. "I could've sworn I heard your stomach growl when we made that 180° degree turn."

Ohio scoffs, "Really? I thought it was yours. I mean, that hamburger you had was pretty greasy."

Iowa frowns. "Can we call this a tie? I wanna go to the water park before it closes."

They laugh at him. "Iowa, spin that wheel," they order.

The poor Iowan groans upset, but he doesn't argue with them. He does what he's told and spins the spinner.

☆☆☆☆☆

After a serving of loaded fries, Ohio and Pennsylvania ride three more roller coasters: Iron Dragon, Corkscrew, and Wicked Twister.

After riding Rougarou, their eighth roller coaster, the hamburger-fries combination is beginning to take a toll on Pennsylvania. It must be the brisket because Ohio doesn't seem sick after eating the chili and cheese variation. Her choice to get brisket fries may have cost her.

"Are you looking for the bathroom?" Ohio's question interrupts her worries. "It's right over there if you're wondering."

She chuckles in slight contempt. "You must be mistaken. I was looking at our options for our next fun factor?"

_Grrrowl..._

He smirks. "Oh? Is that your stomach betraying you?"

"Again, you must be mistaken."

_GRRRRRoooooWWlll..._

Subconsciously, her arms wrap around her stomach. She stumbles over in pain.

Iowa starts to panic. "Should I call 9-1-1?" He gets out his phone.

"N-No! I-I'm fine! I'm f-fine..." she stammers with clenched teeth.

"Come on, Penny. You obviously need to go." Ohio crouches down to her level. "You do know it's bad to hold it all in. Besides, you'll feel so much better once you get it out of your system."

She bit her lip. "True, but that's not necessary."

"Don't be stubborn."

"I'm not."

_PPPPPRRRBBBFFFFTTT!_

Ohio and Iowa stumble backwards with held breaths.

"A fart?! A freaking fart?!" Ohio chokes on air.

She breathes a sigh of relief. "You're right. I feel much better getting it out of my system."

Iowa can only imagine how the others are doing at the water park. "... Okay!" he interrupts their argument. "The break is over. Time for the next fun factor."

~ Hetalia! ~

Once everyone catches their breath, they continue to climb up the roller coaster ranking. Gemini is twice the fun. Magnum XL-200 brings the hype. And Raptor is a killer ride, both figuratively and literally. Soon, they'll make their way to the top five roller coasters in the park. But before they do, they must pass GateKeeper.

The bright blue wing coaster can definitely take anyone to great heights—170 feet at its highest! Anyone riding this majestic bird will feel free as a bird. They'll loop around, spin around, and spiral around in the air, experiencing freedom without the burden that is gravity. This ride will truly take anyone to the gates of heaven. And so far, it hasn't killed anyone like Raptor has done in the past.

"Alright! Here we go!" says Pennsylvania with great excitement.

Ohio squirms in his restraints. For a while now, all that carbon dioxide from the root beer has been building and churning in his gut. He looks at Pennsylvania who doesn't seem to be in pain anymore. Is it the root beer? All that farting and belching? Why isn't she squirming in pain?!

Normally, he doesn't have a problem with GateKeeper's loops and spirals. But at the moment, he's unsure whether or not he can contain all that burger, fries, and root beer inside his stomach. He considers giving up in fear of embarrassment, but it's too late. The train has already left the platform, making its way up to the top of the slope. At this point, all he can do is brace himself for what's to come.

Subconsciously, he squints his eyes.

"Hey! Look, you coward!" She nudges him with her elbow.

Reluctantly, he squeezes one eye open. The first thing he sees is the bright blue sky. The next, he sees the parking lot. The train starts to twist to the right. It's about to happen. He knows what to expect. But once gravity takes over, he immediately loses it.

They drop—164 feet.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaah!" They spiral down from the sky, feeling the weight of 4Gs hit their face.

The second time the train makes a loop, Ohio can feel something come up his throat. His cheeks turn a pale green. "Oooohhh God... I'm gonna hurl...!" He shuts his mouth, trying hard not to make it rain stomach acid.

The ride lasts less than two minutes, yet it feels like an endurance test, at least to Ohio. By the end of it, he falls onto his knees, finally free of that gross feeling.

"Didn't you say you were going to hurl?" Pennsylvania asks with a smug face.

"... I kept it in," he mumbles, adamant to continue this challenge despite his close encounter with embarrassment.

Iowa can't believe their audacity to let their bodies suffer after all the rides they've ridden so far. "You know, there's still enough time to go to the water park," he suggests. "How about we continue this contest tomorrow and-"

"No!" they protest. "This contest is going to be settled today."

Iowa should've put his foot down. 'No! No! I'm not going to be strung around like a lap dog! I'm going to the water park and enjoy my summer vacation! This stupid game is over!' is what he's supposed to say.

Unfortunately, he doesn't have the guts to tell them.

~ Hetalia... ~

Iowa stares at the multitude of colors in the cloudy sky while eating the last bits of funnel cake. It's a gorgeous sight, yet it reminds him of the water park. It saddens him. The place is probably closed by now. Indiana, Kansas, and Nebraska are most likely getting ready to go out to eat at a restaurant. Once more, he considers ditching his job in favor of a pork tenderloin dinner. He thinks about it really hard. And I mean really, really hard. Alas, he's committed to his job.

He sighs.

As much as he wishes for Ohio and Pennsylvania to stop this reckless contest, he can't imagine the pain they're enduring just to prove a point. They survive Valravn's 214 foot drop. They survive Top Thrill Dragster's 120 mile per hour ride. They even survive Maverick's multiple hills, curves, and back-to-back corkscrew rolls. By the time they reach Millenium Force, he knows they won't stop there. Oh no. They're going all the way.

Iowa looks up at the sound of belches and groans from a pair of zombies. Aka his friends after eating junk food and riding sixteen roller coasters in a single day. They're hunched over, on the verge of either fainting from exhaustion or releasing the fun factor onto the concrete pavement.

"I'll keep saying this: You two need to stop before this ends ugly."

They shake their heads.

"Alright... One more ride to go..." Ohio breathes.

"You don't sound so good..." Pennsylvania moans.

"Speak for yourself..." he coughs.

"You guys..." Iowa pleads with a whimper.

"Iowa... the wheel..."

He scowls, but he doesn't argue with them. He can't argue with them. There's no use talking any sense to their thick skulls. The only thing he can do is obey their request. He closes his eyes and lets his hand spin the wheel one last time. When he opens them again, the ticking arrow comes to a stop at a red wedge, at a picture of a slice of pizza.

"I'm not in the mood for pizza..." Pennsylvania groans.

"Are you giving up?" Ohio questions.

"Of course not..."

"Alrighty then... Let's get ourselves some pizza..."

~ Hetalia... ~

The most recent roller coaster to be built at Cedar Point is currently the tallest, longest, and fastest hybrid coaster in the world. Yes, in the world.

Steel Vengeance continues its mean streak as a top tier roller coaster, winning as many as ten awards in last year alone. Just looking at this steel hyper-hybrid will make the average mortal quake and say nope multiple times. If anyone wants to prove they have steel balls, their friends will simply point to this ride without another word. Anyone gutsy enough to ride this behemoth are going to have either an awesome time or a terrible time.

For Ohio and Pennsylvania, it's most likely the latter option if they lose their stomachs.

"Is it me or is the coaster always this big?" He takes a hard gulp at the ultimate test ahead.

Pennsylvania notes her rival's nervousness. "Let me remind you there's the option to turn back." Her stomach rumbles.

He chuckles, "Are you kidding me? There's no turning back at this point."

Iowa watches his friends stand in line, awaiting the inevitable end to this pointless challenge. "I wonder what Nebraska is doing right now..." he mumbles to himself.

"You called?"

"Ah!" He looks up at Nebraska standing before him. "What are doing you here?"

"The water park is closed."

"Oh..." He looks up at the pitch black sky. Once again, he's reminded how much time has wasted being here instead of the water park. He holds back from crying in front of her.

"So, how are you holding up?" She sits herself down on the bench.

"Okay, I guess..."

She frowns. "You don't look okay."

"I don't?" He slouches in defeat. "I guess It's obvious. Watching two of your friends torture themselves the entire day isn't the best thing to witness." He makes a light-hearted chuckle.

"Hey, isn't that them on the ride?" She points to the roller coaster heading up a steep hill.

"Yeah..."

"Is that the last one they're riding?"

He nods. "Crazy, right?"

"Why aren't you riding?"

"Me? Ride that?" He laughs. "Would you ride that?"

She shakes her head and chuckles, "Probably not. It looks fun, but I'm just too much of a chicken to stand in line."

"Yeah..." He softly smiles. "I gotta hand it to them. They sure are brave to ride them."

"Maybe one day we'll have the guts to ride that thing."

"Yeah... Maybe..."

As Iowa and Nebraska watch the roller coaster carry the riders down the tracks, a sudden gust of wind blows in their direction. No one notices the train lose momentum. They think they're about to head up a hill. But the train doesn't make it. Midway up a slope, the train stops moving forward. There's a slight pause before gravity does the rest. Riders scream, somewhat confused if this is part of the ride. It isn't until the train moves forward, only to go backwards once again, do they realize the train is stuck, rocking back and forth in a valley. To make matters worse, it starts to sprinkle.

"Help! Help!" the people on the train cry out for help.

Iowa and Nebraska stand up from the bench.

"Call 9-1-1." Nebraska tells him.

"R-Right!" Iowa gets out his phone. "Hopefully they're alright," he mutters.

Ohio covers his mouth. "I don't feel so good..." His cheeks turn green.

Pennsylvania belches. "I-I need to get off... I need to get off!" Her cheeks puff up.

By the time they're rescued, both states have fallen into defeat. From that day onward, they agree to suspend the Cedar Point Challenge indefinitely.

☆☆☆☆☆

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ Cedar Point is a 364-acre amusement park located on a Lake Erie peninsula in Sandusky, Ohio. Since opening in 1870, it's the second oldest operating amusement park in the United States, famously known as "America's Roller Coast" with a world record of 72 rides, including 17-18 roller coasters (number varies whether Pipe Scream counts as a roller coaster or not), the second most in the world behind Six Flags Magic Mountain in Santa Clarita, California. Even though both Cedar Point and Ohio don't have the most roller coasters compared to other states, they proudly claim the distinct title of being "The Roller Coaster Capital of the World".
> 
> \- On June 12, 2019, the roller coaster known as Steel Vengeance had a strange incident. Around 9:30 PM, a sudden gust of wind was strong enough to disrupt the ride, preventing the roller coaster from going up a hill. Riders on board remained stuck in a valley until they were rescued. Fortunately, no one got hurt in the incident.
> 
> \+ In case some were wondering, I had to refer to various websites for roller coaster rankings in order to write this episode. Obviously, some might disagree with this 'ranking', saying this ride is more intense than that ride. As of June 2019, I had never been to Cedar Point in my life thus far. Even if I went, I would've probably chickened out on half the rides, so my personal experience wouldn't help me write this story. Despite being a complete pussy, I would absolutely recommend anyone visit the amusement park, especially coaster enthusiasts.
> 
> \- On a side note, the 'Cedar Point Challenge' is entirely made up and is meant to depict Ohio-Pennsylvania's rivalry. While eating a light meal isn't a bad idea, never eat too much food before going on rides unless you want to experience an upset stomach and puke in public.


	45. Mission Independence (Part 1)

****

~

**July 4, 2019 ~ New York City, New York**

It's 9:00 AM. Already, Liberty Island is swarming with tourists. Among them is a young man with hair like waves of grain and eyes as blue as the sky above the Statue of Liberty. His name is America. And today is his birthday.

Earlier, Washington D.C. woke him up with an early morning phone call, asking him to meet her at the ferry. He wanted to sleep in and go later, but then she guilt tripped him with tickets to the Crown, reservations made months in advance. She also won him over when she mentioned Kansas and Hawaii's names. He didn't want to disappoint them. In a way, he was glad his capital made him get out of bed. Climbing 377 steps was what he needed for a morning workout!

Kansas makes her way up the stairs. "Slow down, South Dakota!"

The Mount Rushmore State looks down at her and the others. "Oh my god! All of you are slowpokes!"

America chuckles, "Easy for you to say. It's not like you're carrying Hawaii on your back."

The little Hawaiian frowns. "Sorry, America. I should've been wearing tennis shoes instead of flip-flops today."

"It's okay." He smiles to reassure her. "You can count on me to get you up-"

"Hurry up, slowpokes!"

He laughs, "Alright, alright, South Dakota! We're coming!"

Many steps below them, Alaska and North Dakota are exploring the lobby at the statue's base. They take pictures while they wait for the others to return from the Crown.

"So, who really owns the Statue of Liberty?" Alaska asks.

North Dakota looks around before facing her. "You're lucky New York and New Jersey aren't here to answer that."

"So, who owns it?"

"Well..." He proceeds to tell her.

Outside the Statue of Liberty, Washington D.C. makes a phone call. "What's your status back at the house?"

☆☆☆☆☆

A couple miles away at America's house, a group of states have woken up early to begin their task: cleaning and decorating the backyard, the setting of America's birthday party. As simple as that sounds, it's a lot of work. Here's the list: mow the grass, clean the pool, sweep the patio, set up the food stations, set up the picnic tables, and lots of decorating. It's a ton of work, especially for four states.

It also doesn't help one of them is slacking off.

"America is so lucky. Having a pet whale live in your swimming pool is so cool." Connecticut sighs while laying on top of the strange-looking whale.

"Connecticut!" He peers down to see Georgia make a pouty face. "You're supposed to clean the pool!"

He shrugs. "Looks clean to me."

"You don't know that!"

He furrows his brows. "Well, how am I supposed to clean the pool with this freaking whale in the way?!"

"That's no excuse for your lazy butt!"

While representatives of the North and South continue to argue, representatives of the Pacific Northwest are working hard setting up picnic tables.

Oregon wipes the sweat off her forehead. "Phew! I'm glad we're getting this done in the morning. I can't imagine doing this in the afternoon."

Washington straightens his back. "Yeah. We still have to get five more picnic tables to get out of the shed."

"I really hope our friends bring the decorations soon. We're almost done cleaning the backyard."

"Do you think they're even awake?"

She sighs, "Probably not."

~ Hetalia... ~

Inside the house, Virginia is making a patriotic, red velvet, layer cake. She sets up a bunch of glass bowl on the kitchen counter, filling each one with a type of red, white, and blue candy. She'll be using them for decoration once she's done coating the cake with a homemade buttercream frosting. She's quite proud of the progress so far. Hopefully America likes it.

_Chime-chime! Chime-chime!_

She gets her phone out of her apron pocket to answer it. "This is Virginia."

"What's your status back at the house?"

She recognizes the stern voice. "Very good. I'm about to decorate America's cake pretty soon."

"Good. Is anyone else with you at the moment?"

"Well, there's Georgia, Connecticut, Oregon, and Washington cleaning up the backyard. Oklahoma is preparing the grills. Arizona, Idaho, and Utah are playing video games with Tony. Michigan and Minnesota are watching a movie in another room." She tries to recall anymore states she's forgetting. "... Oh! Maine and Vermont are taking a stroll around the neighborhood. But they'll be back soon."

"Is anyone cooking at the moment?"

"Other than myself, no. We're still waiting for groceries."

"Who's doing the grocery shopping?"

"California, Maryland, Ohio, and Texas. Other states are getting more specific items, but those four in particular are supposed to buy the traditional foods." She frowns. "I don't know what's taking them so long. It's almost ten, and they're not here yet."

"Have you tried calling them?"

"I was busy making America's birthday cake."

She hears a sigh at the other end. "Okay. The others and I are currently visiting the Statue of Liberty. He hasn't suspect anything thus far. For now, you have until ten tonight to get everything ready for our return."

She softly smiles. "I hope you're having fun."

"Likewise." She hangs up the call.

~ Hetalia! ~

A couple miles away at a grocery store, Maryland is picking out blue crabs at the fresh seafood section.

"What are you doing?" Ohio startles her thoughts, making her drop the metal tongs by accident.

She glares at him. "Don't scare me like that."

"Sorry." He places the cardboard boxes he has been carrying down on the floor.

"What's in the boxes?"

"Corn."

"Really? Just corn?"

"Yeah. It should be enough to feed over fifty people" He opens up one of the boxes to show her a bunch of unpeeled corn. "I still need to get more things at the fruits and vegetables section."

"Like what?" She fetches the metal tongs out of the steel box.

"Well..." He looks back at the grocery list on his phone. "Maine needs blueberries. Vermont needs apples..."

"What about cherries?"

"Michigan doesn't trust me with them, so she bought some beforehand." He glowers at the multiple bags of crab at her feet. "You know, the store sells premade foods. We can save some time and money if we get them instead."

She scoffs, "You're such a cheapskate."

"I'm just saying-"

"Homemade foods are so much better!" She places a blue crab into a paper bag. "My homemade crab cake recipe is a thousand times better than frozen crab cakes."

"Aren't you blowing our budget?" He attempts to calculate the cost on his phone.

"No problem. All these crabs are coming from my pocket." Her eyes grow big all of a sudden. "Oh! Speaking of crabs, I need to get some Old Bay Seasoning. Lots of it!"

Despite his gripes, he relents and lets her keep her crabs. "By the way, do you know where the cart is? I can't find it anywhere." He picks up the boxes of corn.

"Check the meat aisle. Be sure not to talk to California and Texas while you're there." She picks up her bags of fresh crab.

"Are they arguing again?"

"Yep!" She runs off to the aisle where the seasonings are kept.

Nearby at the meat section, shoppers awkwardly pass by an inferno that has been burning for the last five minutes. The firestorm is so immense, it's cooking the raw meat behind the glass. Not even the most intimidating butcher wants to go anywhere near the blaze, afraid of getting scorched if they were to intervene.

Who'll win? The Californian holding a bag of veggies burgers, or the Texan controlling the food cart. Place your bets because things are going to get fiery hot!

Texas makes the first move. "Look here, Valley Girl. I've been nice and lenient with your high demands because today is America's birthday. Ya got your strawberries. Ya got your salad. Ya even got your veggie dogs."

California doesn't flinch. "I'm not in the fucking mood to deal with your bullshit. I miss a crap ton of sleep because of that dumb earthquake this morning, so do me a fucking favor and let me have these."

There's no empathy in the Texan's eyes. "I'm not letting you put those things in the cart."

"Why? You don't have a problem with the veggie dogs. These veggie burgers are totally acceptable."

"They are as fake as the color of your hair."

She gasps. "For your information, these veggie burgers are for people like myself and Oregon who want to stay fit and healthy during the summer."

"If you wanna eat mushy tofu, do it on a different day."

"What the fuck is your problem?"

"The problem is you!"

"The only problem is you being a hardass!"

"You're ruining burgers!"

"Don't be fucking stupid! It's not like I'm stopping everyone from eating meat patties. Like the veggies dogs, I want there to be healthy alternatives for those who don't want to be an ugly fatass."

Texas groans. "You know what, fine. If you like them so much, buy it with your own money."

"A-Actually," she awkwardly smiles, "I'm on a tight budget these days, so..."

She glowers. "No way. We're already spending most of our budget on authentic hot dogs and hamburger meat. There's no way I'm spending anymore of it on soy products."

California stares down at the cart. "Then, get rid of the sausage links."

"No way!"

"Dude! We already have hot dogs!"

"Well, some like myself like sausage dogs."

"Stop making excuses!"

She picks up the packaged veggie dogs. "How about this? Get rid of the veggie dogs, and the fake patties stay."

"What? No!"

"You can eat regular hot dogs like a normal human being."

"Well," she picks up the packaged sausage links, "how about we get rid of the sausage links instead?"

She gives her the death glare. "Your tan is about to get a lot tanner if you don't drop those sausages right now."

A fire sparks in her blue eyes. "We're buying those veggie burgers."

"No, we're not!"

"Yes, we are!"

The inferno escalates into a firestorm. Many customers flee for their lives.

Ohio creeps by to drop his corn at the cart. "Virginia just called asking us to hurry up with the groceries," he whispers before scampering off.

~ HETALIA! ~

For another group of states, they manage to get party supplies without a hitch. They're about to head back to America's house when Wisconsin tells them to make a quick stop at a grocery store.

"We need to get ice cream!" Wisconsin strides to the frozen food aisle.

"D-Didn't we mention ice cream on the list?" Iowa stammers, referring to the grocery list that was given to Maryland yesterday.

"Nope! I knew the list was forgetting something. I just remembered today."

They arrive at the ice cream section.

"Okay..." Wisconsin stares at the multiple brands and flavors on display. "Which one should we get?"

"Hm... Personally, you can't go wrong with Blue Bunny." He pulls a gallon of vanilla ice cream out of the freezer.

"Oh! We should also get the cups for the little ones."

"Good idea."

"Hey! What's taking so long?" A Masshole arrives on the scene.

"Mind carrying this for me?" Wisconsin hands him a gallon.

He gives Iowa a befuddled look. "Why are we getting Blue Bunny ice cream?"

"Well, apparently we forgot to put it on the-"

"No. I mean, why are we getting Blue Bunny?" He puts the gallon back in the freezer. "We should be getting Baskin-Robbins. Now that's some good ice cream." He takes a pint of the aforementioned brand out of one of the freezers.

They shrug. "Okay."

He blinks his eyes. "You're not going to argue with me?"

Iowa cocks his head. "Why would we argue over ice cream?"

"I mean..." He usually expects someone to disagree with him. Then again, he's dealing with two of the nicest states in America. He's unable to make up an excuse.

"We can get Baskin-Robbins and Blue Bunny ice cream. Either way, it's all ice cream going in our bellies," Wisconsin makes a valid point.

"I... You're right," he submits to the Midwest.

After buying a shit ton of ice cream, they head back to Massachusetts's car in the parking lot.

Rhode Island is playing on his Nintendo Switch in the passenger seat when he pauses his game to see the others come back with bags full of ice cream. "We came here for ice cream?" He makes a weird face.

"It wasn't on the grocery list," says Wisconsin.

"Did you guys get popsicles?"

"Popsicles?" Everyone in the car gives him a dumbfounded look.

"You know. The red, white, and blue popsicle sticks. I'm sure America likes those."

"... Shit!" The three states run back to the store.

~ Hetalia! ~

Elsewhere, another group of states are also running to a store. A liquor store to be precise.

"Let's see..." Nevada reads off a recipe on his phone. "Pinnacle Citrus Vodka... DeKuyper Blue Curacao Liqueur..." He places the bottles into a basket before coming to a stop. "Hm... Hopefully Cali is still at the store. I need a couple of things for this citrus-spangled spritzer I'll be making for the party." He sends her a text.

"How much beer are we even buying?" New Hampshire frantically carries a case of canned beer to Delaware.

The First State reads a paper list while doing the math in his head. "Referring to this list, about two-fifths of us are planning to consume alcohol. Assuming five of them are solely drinking cocktails and champagne, that leaves us with at least fifteen people preferring beer. Of course, most of them are going to drink more than one can of beer. Add the fact it's America's birthday, some of them are going to drink until they get wasted. Also, alcohol content is an important factor to consider. The higher the alcohol content, the lesser amount they'll drink in order to get drunk. Obviously, people like Louisiana and Kentucky are exceptions. Therefore, it's proper to assume-"

"How about four cases of beer?" New Hampshire places a 24-pack at his feet.

He blinks his eyes. "Let's add two packs of bottled beer just to be safe."

At the next aisle over, Kentucky and Louisiana are grabbing pretty much any bottle they can get their hands on.

Delaware takes notice of the commotion. "Let me remind you we're on a budget."

"We know." Kentucky picks up a bottle of bourbon whiskey.

"You don't have to tell us twice." Louisiana grabs a bottle of rye whiskey off a shelf.

He grows irritated at their carefree answers. "This party won't excuse any of you from trashing the backyard or running around in a birthday suit."

"Don't worry. That won't happen." He carries multiple jars of moonshine.

"Same." She cradles a flask of rum in her arms.

"I'm serious!"

"We know!" They grab more bottles without slowing down.

He shakes his head in disapproval. "I should've went grocery shopping instead..." he grumbles.

~ Hetalia... ~

After touring the Statue of Liberty, America and his entourage head over to Coney Island to watch Nathan's Hot Dog Eating Contest. Much to their surprise, they recognize a couple of faces competing in this year's competition.

'Why are they here? They're supposed to be preparing the party.' D.C. glares at the stage.

"You can do it, Penny!" Kansas claps her hands.

"Go, Penny! Go!" Hawaii cheers.

Among the women on stage, Pennsylvania is the only one so far in the double digits. She scarfs down her twelfth hot dog before beginning her thirteenth. Fourteen... Fifteen... The number behind her continues to increase. And she has yet to slow down. Unbelievable! She has a stomach made out of steel and the appetite to win. She's unable to speak, but she gives her friends a thumbs-up to acknowledge their support.

"Yeah! Swallow those wieners!" South Dakota cheekily grins.

"Pffft!" Pennsylvania covers her mouth, trying hard not to choke or laugh.

Alaska moves Kansas and Hawaii a couple of steps backwards. "This may get ugly..." she mumbles.

On the men's side of the contest, New York and New Jersey are going in hot like the intensity of their rivalry.

"You... can't... beat... me!" New York speaks between bites.

"Yeah... I... can!" New Jersey eats another hot dog.

"Look here, York!" Illinois waves his arm as he swallows his twentieth hot dog. "See! I'm better than you!"

"Who cares! All that matters is beating Jersey!" He swallows another hot dog.

"Oh, wow..." North Dakota stares.

New Jersey smirks. "I'm gonna win! For America!"

America smiles. "You're doing great, West!"

"Huh?" Illinois, New York, and New Jersey look over at the end of the table.

A large audience is building around West Virginia, cheering him on as he consumes his thirtieth hot dog. He takes a gigantic burp. "Excuse me!" he says before eating another hot dog.

"Yeah! You can do it, West!" America and the rest of the crowd cheer for him.

Illinois looks at the number above his head and frowns. "Welp. I tried." He gets up and walks off the stage.

New York's stomach rumbles upset. "I..."

"Giving up, Yorkie?" New Jersey smirks as he swallows another hot dog.

He glares at him. "Don't count me out just yet." He takes up another hot dog and vigorously eats the entirety of it.

The amount of hot dogs New York and New Jersey consume aren't enough to topple the Mountain State. Like Pennsylvania, they end up at the nearest trash can, feeling like trash themselves. At the very least, they've entertained America for the time being.

To be continued...

☆☆☆☆☆

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ This episode was written in 2019 around the 4th of July. As such, I made an episode featuring the capital and the states celebrating America's birthday. Due to the number of characters, I had to make this a two-parter. Hopefully everyone didn't mind me doing this.
> 
> \- There were many ways I could've written this out. For example, I thought about setting this at the White House. But then I decided to set this story in New York CIty, assuming America lived in that city unless stated otherwise. It was convenient considering I was able to include various places and events for the story.


	46. Mission Independence (Part 2)

__

~

_Previously on 50☆Stars: Washington D.C. and the 50 States are celebrating America's birthday. And now back to our daily scheduled program._

~

Maybe it's not a good idea to get lunch after watching Nathan's Hot Dog Eating Contest...

Nevertheless, lunch at a café is a part of the itinerary. Even if they aren't extremely hungry, America, his capital, and his group of states are there to meet a couple of countries who came to visit America on his birthday.

"Independence!" South Dakota shouts.

"Pffft!" England coughs up blood, getting a laugh out of her.

"Come on, sis." North Dakota frowns.

"What? It's funny."

The Englishman wipes the corner of his mouth with a handkerchief. "Out of all your bloody states, you just have to bring one of the troublemakers..." he grumbles.

America chuckles, "She isn't that bad."

"Just be fortunate you're not dealing with Massachusetts." D.C. drinks her cup of coffee.

Kansas smiles. "Thanks for coming to visit. We really do appreciate it."

"It's no problem, love. Just be mindful of your vocabulary. I hate to lose another drop of blood on this cursed day."

South Dakota glowers. "This cursed day you're referring to is known as frrwmph-"

Alaska covers her mouth. "So, Canada."

Canada lifts his head up in surprise. "You notice me?"

She nods her head. "Don't you want to give something to America?" She looks down at the gift sitting on his lap.

"U-Uh, right!" He places the gift on top of the table. "Ameri-"

"There's nothing in here!" America yells as he stares into an empty box.

His shock gets a chuckle out of the Englishman. "Don't be silly, America. There's a brownie in there."

"A brownie?" Hawaii takes a peek inside the box. "Aren't they on the menu?"

"No, no. That's a different kind of brownie. This brownie is actually an elf of sorts."

America groans, "Not another one of your 'magical' creatures..."

"Be grateful, idiot. That brownie will do chores around the house in exchange for some cream. Since you're so busy all the time, I thought it make an excellent gift."

"So, I can give it a basket of laundry, and it'll-"

"Oh no! Don't ever give it your clothes."

"Why not?"

"Well," he giggles, "his kind are quite sensitive. Give him something as small as a sock, he'll leave your house and refuse to come back."

South Dakota looks into the box. "Does he have a name? If not, let's call him-"

"No, don't!"

"Freedom!"

"Bugger!" England coughs out more blood.

A small, ugly, naked elf leaps out of the box and lands on top of the table. It gives South Dakota a mean, nasty look. "Freedom? Freedom?! That's what you call me!" he screams in a Scottish accent.

South Dakota and her fellow Americans stare awkwardly at the table, unable to see the invisible creature. "Uh... Yeah...?"

"I need no name! I'm no pet!" The brownie spits in her face.

"Ew! You evil fiend!"

"Dumb lassie!" The elf shakes a fist at her. "Just for that, I'm going to wreck your house!" The brownie hops off the table.

"I like to see you try!" She yells at the table, unaware the brownie has ran off.

"Actually, he can," England points out.

"What?"

"Also, he's running down the street."

She gets up from her seat. "I'm not letting you get away!" She chases after the invisible, naked elf.

"Wait up, sis!" North Dakota follows her.

"Let me help!" Kansas heads after them.

"Thanks a lot, Eyebrows." America goes after them.

"You're welcome." He smirks.

"Come on, Alaska! We need to catch Freedom!" Hawaii and Alaska run after them.

"Bollocks!" England coughs up more blood. "Don't call him that!"

D.C. glowers. "This isn't how I plan to spend lunch today."

Canada sighs, "I guess I can wait a little longer to give America his present..."

☆☆☆☆☆

Back at America's house, a bunch of states are chilling in the living room when they hear the timer go off in the kitchen.

Michigan is the first to get there. She puts on a pair of oven mitts and opens the oven. "Alright! My cherry pie is done!"

Maine comes along to fetch her blueberry pie. "I can't wait to eat a slice." She wafts in the warm, pleasant smell.

Vermont lifts his apple pie out of the oven. "Almost done." He places it on the kitchen counter.

The women give him puzzling looks.

"That looks perfect," says Michigan.

"Ah, but it's missing something." He heads over to the refrigerator.

"Is it whip cream?" Maine questions.

"Actually, it's cheese." He pulls out a wedge of cheddar out of the fridge.

Maine and Michigan gives him looks of disgust.

"The South is going to kill you if you do that," Maine warns.

"It's alright. I promise it tastes-"

"Cheese and pie don't belong together!" Michigan grabs the cheddar and yeets it out the window.

"You just threw out some perfectly aged cheddar!" he whines.

~ Hetalia... ~

"And done!" Mississippi finishes decorating the picnic tables. She hops back to the patio where the grills are cooking. "Oklahoma! How the burger patties going?"

"Should be done in about two minutes." He flips a patty with his spatula. "Mind getting me some cheese-"

A wedge of cheddar flies out the window behind them, landing perfectly on an empty plate next to the grill. They blink their eyes at what just happened.

"God must've read your mind," she giggles.

Not long after the flying cheddar incident, Utah comes out of the house with a full tray of red, white, and blue layered jello shots. He intends to place them at the food station when Arizona calls him out from the patio table.

"Hey! Are those done?"

 "Yep!" He looks over at the pitcher of lemonade she's making. "I didn't know you like lemonade."

She shrugs. "It's alright. By chance, did you make any jello shots with alcohol?"

He gives her a strange look. "Why would I put alcohol in my jello?"

Minnesota comes out of the house with a large, teal bowl in her arms. "Excuse me. Do you think this is enough sauerkraut for the party?"

The states peer at the contents in the bowl. "I think so."

"Are you sure? I made this months ago. A-And there's going to be fifty of us."

"Relax, Minnie," says Arizona. "Tell them it's first come first serve. They'll understand."

"Well, is there a nicer translation of that?"

On the other side of the patio table, Idaho huffs at the growing commotion surrounding a bowl of sauerkraut. "Is no one going to comment on my potato salad?!"

They give his potato salad some attention.

"Why does your potato salad look weird?" Arizona makes a weird face.

"It's red, white, and blue!"

"It looks more like red, white, and plum purple to me. It looks good though," says Minnesota.

"Will it taste any good?" Utah questions. "Wouldn't it have been better if they got potato salad at the store instead?"

He fumes. "Fuck all you! My potato salad is going to blow your minds away once you get a taste of it!"

"Can you please not curse at the table?"

"Hey, y'all!" Mississippi hops over to them. "Have any of you sweethearts seen Alabama anywhere?" They shake their heads. "Huh... I wonder where he could be?" She scratches the top of her head.

~ Hetalia! ~

Somewhere in New York City, Indiana is driving her friends to a place Florida says sell fireworks.

"Aren't fireworks illegal in New York?" Missouri questions.

"Illegal?!" Alabama scoffs. "This is America! No firework is illegal in the greatest country on Earth!"

Indiana parks her truck in front of a shady looking warehouse. "Are you sure this is it?"

Florida nods. "That's where he told me to meet him."

"Why do I have a bad feeling we're about be ambushed?" Missouri grumbles.

"Chill out, girl. I thought you like fireworks."

"I just don't like getting mugged and kidnapped!"

"Mugged and kidnapped?!" he scoffs in disgust. "If they try, I knock them so hard they be sent straight to Hell."

"Well, make it quick then. We don't have all day," Indiana reminds them.

Missouri sighs. "Alright. You stay in the car in case some dumbass decides to hijack our ride."

"Don't worry. I won't let anyone touch my baby." She pats the side of her truck.

Alabama, Florida, and Missouri get out of the truck and head inside the abandoned warehouse. The first thing they notice are the thousands of wooden crates, some of which are stacked fives times on top of one another. Missouri takes a look at one of them, lifting the lid to find luxurious, fur coats. Whether they're made out of real animals or not, she'll probably never know. It's best she doesn't know.

"HEY!"

Missouri quickly slams the lid shut. She and her friends turn their heads to see a shirtless man with skull tattoos all over his scarred chest. He storms over to them, looking ready for a fight.

"Uh... Florida, please tell me you know what you're doing?" she whispers with disturbed eyes.

"Oh, you're so quick to judge. He may look scary as fuck, but I'm sure he's a nice guy and all-"

"Bitch! I thought you said you be alone!"

Alabama is about to bite back, but Florida manages to hold him off. She smirks. "Yo, motherfucker!" She strides over to him. "They my friends. They no police."

The man takes a good look at them. "Better be telling the truth." He pulls out a gun.

"Hey! Whoa! I got the money!" She pulls a wad of cash out of her purse.

He cocks his head with interest. "They real? No tricks." He lowers his firearm.

"Where the motherfuckin' fireworks at, dog?"

He makes a gestures for them to follow him, leading them to the back of the warehouse where a box labelled 'fireworks' is printed in large, black letters. "Right here." He slaps the top of the crate.

"Mind if I check?" She opens up the crate. "... Looks good." She tosses the money to the man before shutting the lid. She looks over at her fellow states. "Come on, y'all. Help me get this back to the car."

They help her carry the heavy crate.

"You sure know how to talk your way through these kinds of things," Alabama grunts.

"This entire thing is shady," Missouri grumbles. "I want fireworks, but this is not how I imagine getting them."

Florida rolls her eyes. "Quit your complaining. You should be smiling instead of pouting like an Englishman."

At last, they get the fireworks back to Indiana's truck. Alabama straps the crate in the back and covers it with a blue tarp before heading back inside the truck.

"Everything good?" Indiana asks everyone.

"Just get us out of here." Missouri looks so done with Florida.

Indiana starts up her truck and drives everyone and the illegal fireworks back to America's house.

~ Hetalia... ~

By the time Indiana, Alabama, Missouri, and Florida return to America's house, they're greeted to an American feast.

Most of the states are enjoying themselves. California and Oregon are eating their veggie burgers in peace. Illinois offers to make Indiana a Chicago Dog. Iowa and Nebraska feast on barbecue chicken and grilled corn. Maryland sprinkles extra Old Bay Seasoning on her crab cakes before serving them to her fellow states. Georgia relaxes on a beach chair while drinking a bottle of Coke. Idaho and Washington have a couple of beers while sitting by the pool. Mississippi offers a glass of lemonade to Alabama while asking him a million questions regarding his whereabouts. Nevada makes a cocktail for Louisiana. New Hampshire and Vermont are decorating and sharing a waffle bowl of ice cream. Pennsylvania compliments Utah on the jello shots. Maine offers Massachusetts a bite of her blueberry pie. Texas and Oklahoma finish filling their bellies with strawberry shortcake kabobs. Overall, many of the states are having fun enjoying this 4th of July celebration.

Well, except New York and New Jersey. They're still recovering from the hot dog eating contest.

"TESTING! ONE, TWO, THREE..." Arkansas's voice booms from the speakers around a makeshift stage. "Testing. One, two, three..." he repeats.

"Yes! We finally got it working!" Tennessee exclaims in excitement, having hours worked on the speakers and the karaoke machine.

"Awesome!" Arkansas turns back to the states who are looking at them. "If anybody wants to try out the karaoke machine, it's now open for business. If not, we're going to play a playlist of songs."

South Carolina hurries up to the stage. "I'm going first!"

North Carolina chases after her. "No, you're not! You're going to kill everyone's ears."

South Carolina doesn't listen. She takes the microphone out of Arkansas's hands and picks a random song she knows on the karaoke machine. "Beat it, North. Only one of us can stand on stage."

Arkansas raises a finger. "Technically, as many as twenty people can stand on-"

"Shoo-shoo!" She pushes them off the stage.

"This isn't going to end well." North Carolina and the Southern states cover their ears.

The states who aren't aware of South Carolina's singing talents are confused concerning the South's behavior. Before they can question them, the music comes on, and South Carolina starts to sing. What follows are nails on chalkboard and the screeches of a dying song bird. The microphone makes a high-pitch ring for help every five seconds. Anyone who hasn't covered their ears are either brain dead or deaf at this point.

"Booooo! Get off the stage!" Idaho throws an empty beer can at the stage.

Despite being a hundred feet away, he manages to hit South Carolina on the left shoulder and disrupt her atrocious singing. "Hey! Don't be rude!" She pouts.

"My pet llama sings better than you!"

"Say that again!" South Carolina hops off the stage to beat Idaho to a pulp.

Tennessee and North Carolina uncover their ears. "Wanna sing some good music?" h suggests.

She nods. "We need to start healing everyone's ears as soon as possible."

They get up on stage and start singing right away, making everyone forget the pain in their ears.

~ Hetalia! ~

"Why are you two getting the fire pit ready?" Montana questions Colorado and Wyoming.

"We're going to be making s'mores," says Wyoming.

"Don't we have enough sweets?"

Colorado laughs, "It's s'mores, Montana! Who doesn't like a good tasty s'more?"

The fire in the pit grows to a considerable height.

Colorado notices Tony the Alien and New Mexico walking up to them and smiles. "Hey, dudes! How's it going? Enjoying the party so far?"

Tony nods. "Bubu~" He points to Wyoming holding a marshmallow on a stick.

Being a nice guy, Wyoming gives it to the short, gray alien. "Alright. Be careful not to burn it."

Tony nods again as he places the marshmallow over the flame.

Montana looks at New Mexico. "So, you're still following Tony around?"

He nods. "I need to observe him."

"You're still obsessed with all this alien, sci-fi mumbo-jumbo," Wyoming grumbles.

"Tony knows a lot of things he's not telling us!" New Mexico covers his mouth when he realizes what he just said around Tony. "One of these days, he's going to tell us where comes from, and his purpose for staying on Earth," he whispers.

There's an awkward silence between them. Tony doesn't notice, focused on making a delicious s'more with his toasted marshmallow.

Colorado chuckles, "You worry too much. Tony is cool. Whatever his reasons for staying, he must like it here."

"But don't you think-"

"Pardon for interrupting." Virginia walks over to them. "D.C. just called. They're about to be here in fifteen minutes."

~ Hetalia! ~

It's nearly 10:30 PM. Macy's Fireworks Spectacular ends in a flashy, stunning display of patriotic flair. Traffic after the event is a pain, but D.C. manages to get everyone back to America's house without trouble.

Kansas notices America frown as they're getting out of the car. "What's wrong? Did you not like the fireworks?"

America lifts his head and sees everyone's concerned looks. "O-Of course I like them! It was freaking awesome! The fireworks were so big like wow!" he tries to laugh and pretend all is fine. However, he does admit one nagging thought to them. "Although, it would've been better if everyone was there to see them..."

"... My apologies, America," says D.C.

"It's alright. I understand flight delays, car accidents, and missing cats are a problem," he chuckles.

North Dakota raises a brow. "Is that what you told him?" he whispers to the capital.

"What's your excuse?"

"Cheer up, America!" Hawaii smiles. "Don't forget. We're here to celebrate your birthday with you!"

"That's right!" Kansas agrees. "Even though not all of us are here, we still got your back."

He softly smiles. "Thanks, dudes!" He ruffles the top of their heads.

_**KA-BOOM! KA-BOOM!** _

Everyone's eyes gaze up at the sky. Two giant, red and blue chrysanthemums blooms in the pitch black above America's house.

_**KA-BOOM! CRACKLE!** _

A white crossette explodes in the night, lighting up the neighborhood.

"Is that coming from the backyard?" North Dakota questions.

America heads to the backyard gate. It's unlocked. He pushes it open and runs into the backyard.

"SURPRISE!" America's states cheer with party horns and sparklers in hand.

He stumbles upon them with a goofy smile on his face. "You guys..." He takes a moment to wipe his eyes. "I thought you were finding missing cats?"

Montana makes a weird face. "Who told you that?"

"I did." D.C. and the rest of the states walk up behind America.

He turns to his capital with wide eyes. "So, you lied to me? They were actually here this whole time."

She adjusts her glasses. "My apologies."

"It's okay. I forgive you." He looks back at the rest of his states. "You guys should've seen the fireworks over the Brooklyn Bridge. It was amazing!"

"Maybe we can go see them next time." Virginia presents America his birthday cake. "Happy birthday, America."

"Happy birthday! Happy birthday!" says every state.

America laughs. "Thanks, everyone!"

☆☆☆☆☆

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ Happy birthday, America! May you, your capital, and your states have a spectacular 4th of July.


	47. The Jersey Man-Eater

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This episode features graphic imagery pertaining to blood. It's not too gorey, but it's shown as a part of the story. To any readers who are uncomfortable around the mention of blood, just know reading this episode is optional. You've been warned.

****

~

**July 2, 1916 ~ Beach Haven, New Jersey**

The Mayor of Beach Haven was writing a letter when a knock came at his door. "Come in."

The door creaked open. "Sir," a lady's head popped up from behind the door, "there's a woman here who wishes to see you."

"Did she make an appointment?"

"No, sir."

"Hm... Alright. Bring her in here."

The door fully opened, allowing a brunette in clutches to come into the office. Her face appeared composed, yet there was something on her mind that bothered her. Maybe it was the pain in her left leg, having yesterday survived from the jaws of death. If she were a normal human being, her leg would've taken months to recover. Instead, she guessed it would take about a week at most before she could walk again. For now, she would have to make do with a heavy cast and a pair of wooden clutches.

"Thank you for receiving me," said Pennsylvania as she took a seat in front of the mayor's desk.

The mayor gave her a nod of acknowledgement while he continued to write. "What brings you to my office?"

"A complaint," she bluntly stated. "Your judgement to leave the beaches open is a mistake I want you to correct."

"Hm... I understand your concerns regarding the safety of our beaches. However, I won't take action based on your opinion alone."

She scowled. "Sir, let me remind you a citizen from my home died with flesh stripped from his thigh, caused by a sharp-toothed monster that continues to roam off the sandy coast, the same place where your citizens are swimming without a clue as to the cruel terror lurking underneath the water."

"Hm... As horrible as that sounds, I can't imagine a shark ever attacking a person."

"But that's exactly what happened yesterday!" She nearly stood up in frustration.

"Rest assured. This is a one-time incident It won't happen again."

"How do you know that?" she challenged his judgement.

"Ma'am, I understand what you've been through was a horrifying experience. But please understand there are people who rely on this beach to make a profit. This town's economy is based on the beach, hence the town's name. No matter what, I won't let a mere shark sway me or this town. This beach will remain open whether you like it or not."

She breathed out a heated sigh. "I simply wish to prevent anymore people from ending up like me or that unfortunate man. If you're a man of the people, I recommend making their safety a priority."

His face held no emotion to her plea. "... Thank you for taking the time to visit my office. I wish you my deepest condolences on your recovery."

"..." There were many things Pennsylvania could say to him. Yet, she decided to save her breath on other matters. She left the office without another word.

☆☆☆☆☆

**July 7, 1916 ~ Atlantic City, New Jersey**

"Come on down to the taffy shop, folks! Free samples of salt water taffy to try!" New Jersey passed out samples to people on the boardwalk. "Come in and buy something for your husband, your wife, your kids, your parents, or even yourself! Heck! You deserve a sweet, salty treat!" He made a sly wink at a group of ladies. "Get some taffy and treat yourself today!"

Pennsylvania walked up to the New Jerseyan in clutches. "New Jersey. We need to talk."

He walked over to save her some breath. "Shouldn't you be at home resting?"

She shook her head. "The only thing you should be concerning yourself are these shark attacks happening in your home." She shoved a newspaper into his face, showing him the frontlines of another deadly shark attack that happened in his home.

He took a hard gulp when he read the gruesome injuries left on the victim of the attack. "Geez... I guess I could set up some fences around the beaches-"

"That's not good enough!"

He furrowed his brows. "Then, what do you want me to do?"

"Close down all your beaches."

"I can't do that!"

"Yes, you can!" she raised her voice. "People's lives are at stake!"

"So are their livelihoods!" he argued. "Look. Even if I were to close down the beaches, it's still hot as hell! If polio can't keep Americans from going to the beach, I doubt a shark will keep anyone from taking a swim." He wiped the sweat off his brow.

She huffed, "Well, you need to do something. The shark responsible for these attacks isn't going to stop until you take action."

He paced around the boardwalk as he considered his options. "... I got it!" He snapped his fingers. "I'll hunt that bastard down!"

She was at a loss for words. "That sounds..." She shook her head. "Do you even know how to hunt down a shark?"

He scratched the back of his head. "No... B-But I'll find a way!"

She didn't look convinced. "Whatever you do, you better be careful. I don't want you ending up like me or that man in the newspaper."

He grinned. "No need to worry about me. By the time your leg heals up, that fishy terror's corpse will be hanging off the pier. I'll get that man-eater. You'll see!"

~ Hetalia! ~

**July 12, 1916 ~ Matawan, New Jersey**

Despite the ongoing polio scare, New York decided going to the beach was worth the risk than dying of heat stroke. Sure, he heard of the brutal shark attacks that happened in Beach Haven and Spring Lake. Which was why he chose an unlikely place to swim: a secluded creek located miles away from a beach resort.

After stripping down to a striped, blue bathing suit, New York ran down the wooden dock and made a huge cannonball into the cold water. He cursed and laughed with chills all over his body. It took some time for his body to get used to the cool water. But once the goosebumps were gone, it was a great time. He finally felt free of the stuffy office, free of the crowded city of gas fumes, free of the annoying assholes that breathed down his sweaty neck. It was just him and the creek. Just him swimming in the creek.

Little did he know he wasn't the only one in the creek.

Known by sensational headlines as the Jersey Man-Eater, the eight-foot shark swam in the creek, having recovered from a tug of war with its most recent meal. It would've ate more than a thigh and a leg if they weren't interrupted by pesky humans. How sad. Its massive belly still had room to fill. Its nostrils still had blood from the small human it torn apart thirty minutes ago. Its teeth still ached for another bite. Another bite... The Jersey Man-Eater was on the hunt again.

As the shark continued to swim and scan the creek, it sensed movement up ahead. Prey, perhaps? The splashes were very familiar. A harbor seal, maybe. Or, was it another human? It swam forward, ready to try again. Like a hunter of the sea, it stalked its prey, moving closer and closer to what might be a delicious meal.

New York had noticed the shark was following him. He continued to swim, unaware the shark was less than fifty feet away. The shark swam closer and closer and closer toward its target. Forty feet away... Thirty feet away... Twenty feet away... Ten feet...

New York heard something behind him. He stopped swimming and turned his head around.

_**KAAA-BOOOOOM!** _

A pillar of water erupted behind the New Yorker. He yelled, "WHAT THE FUCK?!" He tried shielding himself with his arms. It was no use. The blast knocked him back a couple of yards. He was stunned, but he was able to recover rather quickly. Water from the abrupt geyser rained down on his head as he stared at the spot where the eruption came from. Instead of a geyser, however, there was a maroon fishing boat sitting there in its place.

On the board the fishing vessel, New Jersey waved at New York with his left hand, the hand that wasn't holding a stick of dynamite. "Yorkie! You're still alive!"

New York fumed, "No shit! Thanks for asking because you're going to be dead in the next thirty seconds!"

"Bro, you should be thanking me. I saved your life."

"You almost killed me!"

"I did NOT kill you. You're still alive after all." His chuckle got cut off when he saw a dorsal fin surfaced. "Yorkie, look out!" He pointed.

New York turned his head and locked eyes with a massive pair of jaws lunging toward him. "FUUUCCKK OOOFFF!" he screamed and punched the shark's nose out of reflex.

The shark didn't see that punch coming. It was powerful enough to offset its attack, allowing New York to dodge and get away.

"I got this!" New Jersey lit another stick of dynamite.

His eyes widened. "No! No! You better not-"

He hurled it into the water. "Better not what?" He smirked.

"Mother-"

_**KAAA-BOOOOOM!** _

"Gaaaaah!" His entire body got swallowed up by the geyser.

"Where is he?" New Jersey scanned the water.

"Forget the shark! Get me outta here!" New York swam toward the boat.

"Not until we kill that toothy bastard!"

"You're going to get me fucking killed instead!"

"You're fine! You're fine!" He waved him off. He searched the creek once more, intent on stopping the menace for good. He spotted what looked like a murky shadow going against the current. He ran to get a fishing net he had prepared for this occasion.

Meanwhile, New York made it to the ladder along the side of the boat. He was about to get on board when he felt a vice grip of a hundred sharpened teeth snapped around his left leg. He screamed and cursed in sheer agony.

"New York!" New Jersey threw the net overboard, consequently trapping the shark and New Yorker together.

"You're... not... helping!" New York mustered to say through his teeth. He struggled to keep his grip on the ladder while the shark fought to pull him back into the creek.

New Jersey hurried to grab an oar from a lifeboat. "Let go of him, you ugly bastard!" He swatted the shark's nose with the oar.

After a couple of hits on the snout, the shark's grip on New York's leg loosened. With the last of his strength, New York hurried to get up the ladder with his good leg. New Jersey helped him on board, pulling him up over the railing. His face turned white when he saw the amount of blood oozing out of New York's left leg. His heavy heart began to race.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" He scurried around the boat to get towels and a first-aid kit.

New York moaned, "You're... the worst... Ah, shit..." He could barely keep his eyes open.

New Jersey rushed over to his side. "Save your breath. You can call me a piece of shit later." His hands trembled as he wrapped layers of gauze around the large bite wound. He took New York's hands and placed them on top of the bloody bandages. "Stay awake and put pressure on it. I'm getting you to a hospital." He hurried to steer the boat to the nearest dock.

By the time they got back to land, however, New York had already passed out from blood loss.

~ ....... ~

New York blinked open his eyes. The first thing he saw was the ceiling, crusty white with cracks in the paint. The second thing he saw was his left leg. It was wrapped in a giant cast. Most importantly, it was still attached to his body. He breathed out a sigh, lucky to have survived the shark attack.

After looking around his hospital room, the last thing he observed was the counter full of gifts. One of them was a giant gift basket full of salt water taffy. He plopped a green apple flavored taffy into his mouth while reading a card that was attached to the basket.

_I'm sorry for nearly killing you when you got attacked by a shark. Once you're out of the hospital, I'll let you punch me. Just this once. Free of charge. Get better soon. But not too soon if you know what I mean._

_New Jersey_

He smirked. "One punch is all I need." He cracked his knuckles.

☆☆☆☆☆

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ The Jersey Shore shark attacks of 1916 were a series of shark attacks that took place off the coast of New Jersey. Between July 1st and July 12th, four people were killed, and one teenager from New York was fatally injured. The shark species and the number of sharks involved remain a mystery among scientists although it had been suspected the species was either the great white shark or the bull shark.
> 
> \- At the time, many individuals believed the attacks were caused by a rogue shark nicknamed the "Jersey man-eater". After the initial attacks, there was a massive shark hunt to kill the Jersey man-eater and any shark off the coasts of New York and New Jersey. Rewards were given to those who caught a shark, resulting in the killing of hundreds of sharks. Among the sharks that were killed, an individual named Michael Schliesser caught a 7.5 foot great white shark that held "fifteen pounds of suspicious flesh and bones" in its belly. It was later confirmed to be human remains. No further attacks were reported along the Jersey Shore in the summer of 1916 after the capture of Schleisser's shark.
> 
> \+ Prior to the attacks, scientists didn't suspect sharks of posing as a threat toward people. They thought sharks were too timid to approach humans, nor were they strong enough to break human bone. Obviously, these shark attacks made them revise their assumptions. Some shark species were indeed harmless, however, other species such as the great white were now confirmed to be capable of harming humans.
> 
> \- The American public, too, believed sharks to be relatively harmless. Before the attacks, there were notifications of sharks off the coast, however, they were usually ignored. By the second shark attack, however, the public's outlook on sharks began to change. Steel-wired-mesh fences were established around beaches while armed motorboats patrolled the perimeter with nets and dynamite in hand. Riding the wave of shark mania, newspaper cartoonists used the shark's terrifying image as a caricature for political figures, Victorian culture, polio, German U-boats, and the deadly heat wave that threatened the Northeast. While the author of "Jaws" denied his novel was inspired by these events, the novel's film adaptation often made references to the 1916 shark attacks.


	48. Some Ice Cream Stories

****

~

**Summer 1904 ~ St. Louis, Missouri**

It turned out Illinois got the last laugh.

Missouri made the mistake of tackling two summer jobs at once: the Louisiana Purchase Exposition (aka the St. Louis World's Fair) and the Summer Olympics. She painfully recalled herself bullying Illinois into letting her oversee the Summer Olympics, telling him he had no right to overshadow the international fair. Things went her way, and she held the distinguished honor of hosting two international events at once.

But as it turned out, it was a lot of work for one event. For two, it was insufferable labor 24/7.

"Why did I ever agreed to do this?" Missouri cried as she sat in an ice cream booth in a sweaty mess. "This is horrible. Just... awful!"

"Hey! Is anyone there?" said a man with a French accent.

She quickly wiped her eyes and stood up to serve her next customer. "Y-Yes! What could I... France, what are you doing here?" She stared at the Frenchman, mouth agape.

"Like every tourist here, mademoiselle. I'm here for the Olympics and the World's Fair." He smiled. He wiped the sweat off his forehead with a handkerchief. "How do you bare with this climate? If I had my way, I would've stripped down to my socks days ago!"

She softly smiled. "It's not so bad. It could've been worst."

He heaved a sigh. "Mind fetching moi (me) some ice cream?"

She nodded. "Coming right up!" She headed over to the ice box.

Her hand reached over to grab a paper cup, only to grab air instead. 'Crap... I guess I should start refilling the stack. There should be some extras somewhere...' She checked every box and cabinet in her tiny booth, finding no success. '... Well, fuck...' She started to panic. 'I can't disappoint, France. I can't embarrass, America! There's gotta be a cup somewhere...' She looked around the booth again.

"Here is your waffle, ma'am!" said the waffle vendor next door.

Missouri's ears perked up, and a brilliant idea popped into her head. "Mr. Hamwi!" She rushed over to their booth. "I want to buy some of your waffles please!"

Less than five minutes later, France happily got his vanilla ice cream in a waffle cone.

Since that hot afternoon, Missouri would always have a stack of waffles to make into cones to hold her ice cream in. Everyone loved the ice cream cones whenever they bought ice cream from her booth. By the end of summer, she made a great profit to buy herself some vacation time. No doubt, she deserved it.

☆☆☆☆☆

**Summer 1987 ~ Burlington, Vermont**

It seemed so long ago, yet a decade had passed since Ben & Jerry's started as a humble ice cream parlor. Nowadays, they were quickly gaining a following in the New England region. They recently introduced Cherry Garcia as a flavor, and everyone loved it. Cherry Garcia and many flavors of ice cream were selling like crazy. It was awesome!

What wasn't awesome was thousands gallons of ice cream waste left behind after production.

Vermont sighed after hanging up the office phone. "Good news and bad news."

Ben Cohen frowned. "Good news?"

"Some of the sewer plants are willing to take on some of the ice cream waste."

"And bad news?" Jerry Greenfield questioned.

"Only some of them are willing. The rest refuse to take a single drop, citing concerns of the smell and the capacity of their faculties." He frowned. "While we're able to get rid of some of the ice cream waste, we're still left with many gallons left over."

Mr. Greenfield groaned, "This is terrible. How are we going to dispose all this ice cream waste?"

Mr. Cohen did some pondering in his chair. "There must be alternate methods. If possible, such methods should be cost efficient and environmentally friendly."

"I doubt that's possible, my friend. We're already spending a considerable amount with traditional methods." His fellow co-founder sighed. "But if necessary, any method is better than keeping gallons of ice cream waste and risk health and contamination problems."

Vermont picked up the phone once again. "I'll see what I can do."

~ Hetalia! ~

_Oink! Oink! Oink! Oink!_

"Here you go, little piggies! Enjoy!" Vermont dumped a bucket of ice cream waste into the steel trough.

A drove of hungry piglets flocked to the steel trough. Not a single one was hesitant over this strange mush. They were eager to eat as always. They gobbled up the Cherry Garcia slop without bias, filling their round, pink tummies with this cool, creamy, cherry slush like it were their mother's milk.

All the pigs on the farm seemed to like the leftover ice cream waste in any flavor. Well, except for Mint Chocolate Cookie. They turned their snout away from the minty fragrance. But that was alright. Even if this venture was temporary, the pigs did their job and got rid of the ice cream waste like Ben and Jerry wanted.

~ Hetalia! ~

**Summer 2016 ~ New York City, New York**

This year, Washington D.C. and the 50 States were celebrating America's birthday at the public park, specifically at the baseball field. While most of the states play around in the park and prepare a late afternoon picnic, the rest went out to play baseball.

They were divided into two teams. Team American led by America consisted of: New York, Massachusetts, Texas, Minnesota, Ohio, Michigan, Maryland, Kansas, and Washington. Team National led by D.C. consisted of: California, Missouri, Wisconsin, Illinois, Florida, Georgia, Colorado, Arizona, and Pennsylvania.

They were playing for fun and laughs until D.C. mentioned a $100,000 reward for the winning team, taking this ballgame to a whole new level of intensity.

"Come on, Arizona! Hit this one out of the ballpark!" California cheered.

Arizona stood at the batter's box, prepping her swing. "Let's go, America! Throw me a fast one!" She smirked.

America stood at the pitcher's mound with the ball in hand. "Alrighty then! You asked for it!" He threw a fastball at her.

She swung her bat too late, completely missing the ball. "Strike one!" Washington called as soon as he caught the ball.

"You completely whiffed it!"

"Fuck off, Cali! I was close!" Arizona pouted as she prepared to swing once again. "This one I know is going to hit the stratosphere!" She tightened her grip on the bat.

At the dugout, Colorado sat at the bench and groaned, "Ugh... I'm so hungry..."

"Hungry for a win!" California passionately shouted with fiery eyes and a clenched fist.

"That and for some hot dogs." His stomach growled in agreement.

"Did someone say hot dogs?" New Jersey popped into the dugout with a tray full of hot dogs. "I got some right here!"

"Ooh! Yes, please!" Wisconsin raised her hand.

"If it's not a veggie dog, I'll pass." California turned her head.

"No, thank you," said D.C., knowing full well not to trust the Jersey Devil.

Sadly, the same couldn't be said for the rest of the states. New Jersey continued to give out hot dogs to his fellow states, giving them away like they were salt water taffy.

As soon as Georgia and Missouri got their hot dogs, they noticed the hot dogs they were having looked "fancier" than the typical hot dog. The brioche bun that held the hot dog looked like it came fresh out of a bakery instead of a store shelf. Speaking of the hot dog itself, it was hidden underneath a generous pile of pickled cabbage, mustard, and ketchup. However, there was no hot dog. Where the pink frankfurter should be was instead replaced with a creamy, white tube. It smelled like a hot dog. It looked like a hot dog. But it was no hot dog.

It was... a prank!

Before they could warn their friends, it was too late.

Pennsylvania made a weird face. "Ugh... What the..." She managed to swallow the bite in disgust.

Unfortunately, the same couldn't be said for Wisconsin, Illinois, and Colorado. All three states rushed to the nearest trash can to spit out their first bite and throw away the rest of their "hot dog".

"Ew! Gross!" Wisconsin spat multiple times, trying to get the unusual taste off her tongue.

"Got ya!" New Jersey laughed and ran out of the dugout.

"New Jersey!" Illinois shook his fist at him. "You went too far! Hot dogs aren't to be messed with!"

"That was a good prank though..." Colorado grumbled he hadn't thought of doing that.

New Jersey ran up to New York at first base. "We got them, Yorkie!"

"Nice." He and New Jersey traded fist bumps, a rare sight.

"Ha! You didn't fool me!" California shouted from the dugout.

"Fool who?" Florida batted her eyes as she continued to eat hot dog flavored ice cream.

☆☆☆☆☆

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ In 1904, St. Louis, Missouri hosted the Louisiana Purchase Exposition (aka the St. Louis World's Fair). Among the things that were introduced at the international event, one of them was the ice cream cone. The ice cream cone's origins and popularization remained disputed. Among various stories, one of the most popular involved Arnold Fornachou who was operating an ice cream booth at the fair. When he ran out of cups to hold his ice cream in, he relied on the waffle booth next door to provide him waffles in which he made into cones to hold his ice cream. Even though Fornachou wasn't the person to invent the ice cream cone, he did help popularize the ice cream cone to a mainstream audience.
> 
> \- On a side note, Missouri's official state food is the ice cream cone. And yes, a state symbol for food is a thing.
> 
> \+ Ben & Jerry's Homemade Inc. is an American ice cream company based in Burlington, Vermont. They're well-known for producing many delicious flavors as well as their creative titles. For this episode, I focus on a fun fact about their ice cream.
> 
> \- In 1987, Ben & Jerry's needed to find a way to get rid of its ice cream waste without the reliance of municipal sewers. Their solution was a partnership with a farm whose pigs would fatten up on ice cream waste until they were ready for slaughter. For a while, it was working. But as it turned out, the ice cream waste increased the fat content in the pigs, making the meat less tasty. The company had to resort to more practical methods afterward.
> 
> \+ In 2016, Nick Morgenstern and Daniel Boulud, respective owners of a restaurant and an ice cream parlor in New York City, collaborated to create a special ice cream treat for the upcoming 4th of July celebration. They called it the "DBGB Cool Dog": a hot dog flavored ice cream contained in a brioche bun, topped with candied pickled cabbage, spicy honey mustard, and blackberry-raspberry ketchup.
> 
> \- I haven't tried hot dog flavored ice cream, so I won't say I hate the ice cream just yet. In its defense, ice cream can come in many flavors; some of which are just as bizarre. Some of the strangest flavors include: avocado, corn, foie gras, ghost pepper, lobster, and raw horse flesh. No, I'm not making this up.


	49. Year of the Pig

~

"I'm sick of these motherfucking pigs on this motherfucking land!" Texas rants to her fellow states while pacing in front of a messy whiteboard. "They need to go! They need to die!"

Alabama scowls. "What did they do this time?"

She slams down a basket full of melons, all of which are riddled with bite marks. "I waited months for some ripe melons! Just as I was going to harvest them, those potbellied pests ruined my melon patch! They ate my honeydew! They ate my cantaloupe! They didn't even spare my watermelons!"

Oklahoma gasps, "Not the watermelons!"

"Just get melons from the store. Problem solved," Florida says nonchalantly while snacking on chips.

The Texan gives her an indignant look. "Did I ask for your opinion?"

Louisiana raises her hand to speak. "I don't mind lending a gun for the cause, but you know as well as I do those feral hogs aren't easy to get rid of. Just how many are ya looking to kill?"

She smacks a photo on the whiteboard. "The entire family. Boars, sows, and piglets... I want them melon-eating bastards dead!"

Arkansas raises a brow. "You expect us to capture and kill all thirty hogs on your property?"

She nods her head. "As much as I prefer to do things myself, y'all's assistance will spare me some time and labor."

Florida stands up from her seat and loads up a shotgun. "Well, count me in! Let's get ourselves some hog! Yeehaw!" She unloads a shot into the ceiling.

Everyone yells, "What the fuck, Florida?!"

"Whoops... My bad..." She awkwardly grins.

☆☆☆☆☆

Deep in the Texas woods, Alabama sets up a feeding station in a clearing. He hasn't worked up a sweat, yet he already reeks of hog. That's because he's using a hog urine spray. Yep, it's gross to scrawny yuppies. But without it, he may as well be shouting at the top of his lungs. If he's going to hunt himself a pig, he's going to do it his way. Which is the best way according to him.

After completing step one, he proceeds to step two: head up a tree stand. A couple of yards yonder, there's a sturdy oak with a small, metal platform attached to the trunk. The perch is about twenty feet above the ground. It's in sight of the feeding station, giving Alabama an advantage over the pigs who are accustomed to looking at ground level. No pig is going to suspect an enemy in the trees, much less one making a kill from many yards away.

Once Alabama climbs up the ladder to get up on the small platform, he proceeds to sit back and relax. This is called step three: wait for them to come.

"Just three easy steps to outsmart a pig." He yawns as he leans back in his chair. "It may be hours until a sounder comes along. But when they do, they won't see me coming."

~ Hours later... ~

"Zzz..." Alabama snores in his chair, deep in sleep.

A sounder of pigs takes advantage of the unguarded feeding station before moving elsewhere.

~ Zzz... ~

Decked in camouflage from cap to boot, Louisiana and Texas wait by the truck in the middle of the woods. Texas sat on the bed of the truck, watching the GPS monitor that's tracking the bay dogs. Louisiana tends to her catch dogs, Rouge and Soul, who are eager to start hunting some feral pigs.

"Alabama thinks he can outsmart a hog," Louisiana scoffs. "Knowing him, he's probably sleeping on the job."

Texas smirks. "I can't stand waiting for hours. I prefer getting things done right away."

She chuckles, "I got you."

_Bark! Yelp! Bark! Yelp! Bark! Yelp! Bark!_

Their ears perk up.

"Sounds like Jazz and Lacy found themselves a pig." Texas hops off the truck. "Let's go get them."

Louisiana grabs her hunting rifle. "Come on, Rouge! Come on, Soul! Let's not keep Jazz waiting!"

They run off in the direction of the barking.

~ Hetalia! ~

Look! Up in the sky! It's a bird! It's a plane! It's... a Floridan in a hot air balloon. Oh no.

"Look! I see them!" Florida points at a sounder of pigs roaming in the prairie. "Get us closer to them!" She gets her rifle ready.

The balloonist does his best to guide the hot air balloon toward the sounder which is a lot harder to do than it seems.

Arkansas frowns as he gets his gun out. "We should've rented a helicopter for this job. Why a hot air balloon?"

"Duh! Because it's legal."

"But Texas said it's ineffective."

"Less effective than a helicopter? Pfft! That's hard to believe." She starts firing at the pigs.

Already alert of their attacker in the sky, the feral pigs make a run toward the hot air balloon. Florida keeps firing her gun, yet her shots aren't hitting a target. Arkansas does his best, but he's more accustomed to hunting from a lower elevation. He can't make a hit. Their guns remain pointed at the sounder, but the hogs are getting farther away from the balloon.

"Come on! We're losing them! Turn this balloon around!" she nags the balloonist.

"I-I'm getting to it."

"They're getting away!"

Arkansas groans, "This is why we should've gone with the helicopter."

She pouts. "I'm not letting them get away!" She pushes the balloonist aside.

"W-Wait a minute! You can't control this thing!" the balloonist protests.

"Just watch! We're going to get those hogs!" She messes with the burner.

Whatever Florida is doing to the balloon, it seems to be working. The balloon steers toward the direction of the hogs. By the time they catch up with the pigs, the sounder have disappeared into the forest, making it difficult to get a clear shot of the pig. To add to their difficulties, the hot air balloon is descending onto the canopies, getting dangerously close to the ground.

"Florida! Get us up! G-Get us up!" Arkansas grips the basket's railing.

"I-I'm trying! I'm trying!"

"M-Miss! Let me!" The balloonist tries to nudge her away.

"No, I got this! I got this under control!"

"Aaaah! We're going to crash!"

"Brace yourself!"

"Stop screaming! We're not going to-"

_Crack!_

The balloon snaps through the trees.

"Aw, shit." She shrugs. "Oh well. I tried."

"Aaaaaaahh!" They brace themselves for a rough landing.

The snapping branches force Alabama awake. "Wha-What?" He looks up with astound eyes. "Ah, shit!" He hurries down the ladder, running for his dear life.

The branches soften the crash, but the crash is nevertheless a disaster, just like this failure of a hunt. Arkansas, Florida, and the balloonist exit the basket with minor scratches. Other than the feeling of defeat, they appear okay for the most part.

_Bark! Bark! Bark!_

Texas's Blue Lacy is the first to arrive at the scene. Louisiana and the rest of the dogs catch up to find everyone in a daze. "Is anyone hurt?" she questions.

"I'm alright," Alabama grumbles as he stumbles out from behind the trees.

Arkansas groans, "Never... trust... Florida... again..." He falls back on the ground.

"At least we're alive!" Florida laughs.

"My boss is going to kill me..." the balloonist cries in front of the torn balloon.

~ Hetalia... ~

By the end of the day, the group settles on killing a single hog. Texas and Louisiana gloat about their successful hunt, much to the ire of the rest of the group. Despite their complaints and excuses, they can't deny a good barbecue. While Texas and Louisiana roast the whole hog, the rest of the states settle around the picnic table, talking about their day so far.

_Grunt! Snort! Oink! Oink!_

Arkansas looks over at the tawny piglet in Oklahoma's arms. "What do you plan on doing with the piglet you trapped?"

"Raise him up-" The piglet breathes out a sigh of relief. "-until he's fat enough for harvest."

The piglet's eyes bulge out of its sockets. "Squee! Squee!" It struggles to escape.

"He already looks pudgy." Florida pokes at the piglet's round tummy, making the piglet struggle even more.

"Probably from all those melons he and his family ate," Arkansas grumbles while tending to his wounds.

"Why not cook him now?"

The piglet brashly shakes its head. "S-Squee! Snort! Squee!" Translation: "H-Have mercy! I'm too young and lean to die!"

"You plan on selling his carcass?" Alabama asks.

"I actually plan on slaughtering him myself. I'll probably make some pork sausages out of him."

The piglet makes a sad snort. "Grunt..." Translation: "Please don't..."

"I bet he make a nice pork tenderloin sandwich," says Arkansas.

"If I had my way with that piggie, I probably turn him into some pork chops." Alabama drools at the suggestion.

"S-Squee! Squee!" Translation: "D-Don't encourage him!" The piglet gives off a loud squeal when his uncle's roasted carcass plops onto the picnic table.

"Dinner's ready!" Louisiana beams. She swings down a large, butcher knife onto the pig's left side, making quick work on turning the pig's insides into a steamy pile of pulled pork. Everyone except the piglet admire the spectacle.

The piglet goes limp in Oklahoma's arms. "Grunt..." Translation: "This is my future..."

Texas chuckles as she sets down a tray of sliced watermelons at one end of the table. "Good news, y'all. I manage to find some undamaged watermelons on the farm."

"Sweet!" Oklahoma reaches over the table to grab a slice.

"Nuh-uh!" Louisiana smacks his hand before he can grab one. "Everyone, wash your hands first. Have some manners."

Everyone groans, "Yes, ma'am."

Just as they're heading over to the nearest sink, they hear a faint rumble. It sounds like hooves trampling the ground. At first, they think it's Texas's longhorns. But as they continue to stand still, the rumbling grows louder and louder, coming closer to them.

Florida spots something in the direction of the setting sun. "Is that a dust storm?" She points at an incoming dust cloud.

"That looks too small to be a dust storm." Oklahoma squints his eyes. "Are those...?"

The piglet's ears perk up when it recognizes the familiar squeals. "Oink! Oink! Oink!" Translation: "Mama! I'm here! I'm here!"

The head sow leading the drive of feral pigs bellows a loud shriek. "SQUEEAAALL!" Translation: "CHAAARRGE!"

Texas grabs her handgun out of the holster attached to her belt. Before she can make a shot, Mama Pig flips the picnic table over, spilling everything onto the ground. All hell breaks loose.

Arkansas gets knocked over by a couple of sows. Alabama tackles a young boar to the ground and starts wrestling with it. Louisiana runs and swings her butcher knife around like a machete. Her dogs follow her lead and attack any pig that gets close to them. Florida shoots in every direction: the sky, the ground, and anything that moves, including her friends who try to avoid getting shot by her. Texas yells at her to stop, but she doesn't hear her. Texas aims her gun at the sows stomping on Arkansas. She pulls the trigger. A boar gets in the way and takes the bullet in the shoulder without flinching. He charges at the Texan, but Texas's Blue Lacy nips its nail to distract it from attacking her owner.

"Arkansas!" Oklahoma drops the piglet in order to save his neighbor from the angry pigs.

The piglet squeals in delight, free from becoming a pork sausage. They skip over to their mama with a wagging tail. "Oink! Oink!" Translation: "You came back, Mama! You came to save me!"

"Oink, oink, oink, oink," Mama Pig grunts as she and her sisters chow down on barbecued pork and watermelon slices.

"Squee! Squee!" the piglet squeals with shocked eyes. Translation: "Mama! You're eating Uncle Paul!"

"Grunt?" Mama Pig tears into Uncle Paul's roasted skin. Translation: "Am I?"

"Squeal!" The piglet nods.

Mama Pig continues to gobble up her sibling's cooked flesh. "He tastes delicious! He tastes better than your youngest brother," she says in her grunts.

The piglet gasps on the verge of tears. "You mean Little Lucky?! You said he died in a dark place."

"He did die... in my belly! He cured my anxiety which is nice of him to do!" Mama Pig makes a silly snort.

The piglet can barely stand on their feet. "Grunt, grunt..." Translation: "You're no different from humans..."

"Aaaaaaah! Noo! Not the raspberries!" Texas screams at the swine sweeping through her summer crops like a swarm of locust.

Results of The War on Wild Pigs

Americans - 0 | Wild Pigs - 1

☆☆☆☆☆

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ Domestic pigs were first introduced to Texas by Spanish explorers in the 17th century. They were free to roam the land until they were needed. However, many of these pigs ended up being abandoned during economic downturns and war times, forcing them to fend for themselves. By the 1930s, European wild hogs were introduced to Texas as a sporting animal. Some of the European boars escaped and bred with feral domestic pigs, creating a hybrid that was able to proliferate and adapt in various habitats in present day America.
> 
> \- According to various studies that were published in 2018, there are 5-6 million feral pigs in the United States, and the population is rapidly expanding. In Texas alone, there are 2.6 million pigs that cost the state around $50 million dollars worth of agricultural damage per year. Besides damages to agriculture, feral pigs are also threatening native wildlife with its omnivorous appetite (they're known to eat fawns, calves, and cannibalize on their own young)! In order to keep the population of feral pigs at a stable level, the state must harvest 66% of the population per year. As such, Texas is one of many states that allow the hunting of these vermin throughout the year with minimal restrictions required to hunt them.
> 
> \+ Like rodents, feral pigs have a unique biology that allows them to grow and produce rapidly. They can live for up to 8 years which sounds short, however, a sow is breedable by 6 months of age. From a single sow alone, she can produce 2 litters of up to 12 piglets per year. Do the math, and it's pretty scary to think about. Keep in mind, unlike rats, these huge, heavy hogs sport razor sharp tusks that are large enough to ward off some predators which sadly aren't enough to control the population.
> 
> \- Despite their ugly appearance, feral pigs are incredibly intelligent, making them harder to hunt as a result. The most common hunting method is using hunting dogs to track, tire, and capture/kill the pigs. Other methods include: stand hunting, trapping, and the use of helicopters. In September 2017, the State of Texas have legalized the use of hot air balloons as another method of hog hunting (although many Texans express doubts of this method being effective). Even with all these options available to choose from, many pigs are able to avoid and outsmart hunters, leaving many hunters empty-handed by the end of the day. As of 2019, poisons and contraceptives are being tested and considered as ways of controlling the feral pig population.


	50. Thoughts and Prayers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This episode is based on the aftermath of mass shootings in the United States (see the endnotes for summaries of the shootings that are referenced in this episode). To be frank, this episode isn't about the politics of gun violence or the antagonism behind such massacres. This episode is about the emotions: the sorrow, the anger, and the desire for change. If necessary, I'll take the episode down if it offends the victims of such shootings. Overall, please don't create a political dumpster fire in the comments section. You've been warned.

~

The first weekend of August was supposed to be like any other weekend. If anything, it was supposed to be a busy weekend. A time for parents, grandparents, and children to go shopping for food, clothes, and school supplies. A time for many people to enjoy the last month of summer. It was supposed to be a normal weekend. It was supposed to be peaceful...

The only peace that came was Sunday evening. It was in midst of a silent vigil being held among thousands of people, all of whom were diverse, yet they came together in strength for the community. They held candles in their hands. Small lights full of warmth, yet full of hope against the darkness that surrounded them. Though they shed tragic tears. Though they trembled at yesterday's terror. Though they held tumultuous emotions in their hearts. They remained strong. Above all, they were united.

A young, Hispanic woman with blonde pigtails respectfully made her way through the crowd. She was one of the few people to wear something colorful on this solemn evening. A black and yellow dress made out of lace with a fresh, golden flower pinned over her heart most certainly made her stood out. She was familiar with the customs of death to the point of it being ingrained in her culture. She understood the process of grief. She understood the process of mourning. Most importantly, she understood the lives that were lost weren't necessarily gone; they were elsewhere, watching over them.

After searching for a couple of minutes, she finally found her neighbor standing underneath an oak tree with a candle in her hands. "Hey, Tejas..." she quietly spoke up.

Texas lifted her head and saw Chihuahua make her way toward her. There was a sad look in her eyes, heavy with regret. She stared at the ground, unable to look her in the eye. "I'm sorry..." she mumbled.

Chihuahua hugged the Texan. She didn't say anything. She didn't have to. Enough was said in her embrace.

☆☆☆☆☆

Ohio stood in silence as he watched his boss stand on stage, surrounded by a grieving community who were there for the vigil. He didn't think much about what his boss was saying. He was too numb with grief, still thinking about this morning.

After learning about the shooting, he drove to the city and arrived at the scene of the crime before noon. Part of the street was cut off with police cars and yellow tape, so he couldn't exactly see the damage that was done to the bar. He did learn the whereabouts of the victims, giving him the opportunity to visit the hospital. He was glad to see most of them were in stable condition, thankful they survived. Still, there were grievances he held for the victims that didn't make it.

If the police hadn't acted as soon as they did, the number of casualties would've been higher. The perpetrator responsible for the massacre intended to kill more than nine people that early morning. The mask, the hearing protection, the bullet proof armor, the semi-automatic gun, the perpetrator was out for a lot of blood. It was a good thing the police shot the perpetrator dead, saving countless lives. However, Ohio wished the perpetrator was still alive, at least long enough to stand at trial for their crimes. They didn't deserve to die without seeing the damage they had done. It was unfair. It was very unfair...

He tightly clenched the candle in his hand.

His boss continued to speak before the crowd. "Because we know that we cannot-"

"Do something!" yelled a man at the back of the crowd.

The governor remained unperturbed and continued to speak. "We know we cannot ease the pain of those families who have lost someone..."

"Do something! Do something! Do something!" More voices chanted from the crowd.

"... Tell you that we care."

"DO SOMETHING! DO SOMETHING!"

"My wife and I, 26 years ago..."

"DO SOMETHING! DO SOMETHING! DO SOMETHING!" Calls for action drowned the governor's speech. It was almost deafening.

"... What we do tonight by this amazing crowd is to say... to them we love you, we care very, very deeply about you, and we will do everything that we can..."

**"DO SOMETHING! DO SOMETHING! DO SOMETHING!"**

"... everything that we can... to tell you that we care..."

Ohio watched his boss become inept in assuring the crowd. He watched on in silence without an ounce of sympathy. Although he was never the type to side with mob mentality, he agreed with the crowd.

Something needed to be done. They were tired of watching another shooting happen. They were tired of watching another vigil take place. They were tired of watching another politician give their thoughts and prayers. They were done with this repetitive cycle of mourning and healing. They demanded change. They demanded it now.

☆☆☆☆☆

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ On the first weekend of August 2019, two mass shootings occurred in the United States, happening within 13 hours from one another. Below are brief summaries of these shootings:
> 
> \- The first shooting to occur happened in El Paso, Texas at a Walmart where Latinos, both from Mexico and the United States, were known to shop at. A lone gunman made a 10 hour drive from Allen, Texas to make a 'random' stop at the Walmart and opened fire at the people within the store. After surrendering to the police, the gunman showed no remorse for killing 22 people and injuring 24 others; out of those numbers, 15 were Mexican citizens. As of August 6, 2019, the gunman is charged with capital murder, and the shooting continues to be investigated as an act of domestic terrorism.
> 
> \- The second shooting to occur happened in Dayton, Ohio at a bar in the Oregon Historic District. Around 1:00 in the morning, a lone gunman opened fire at a crowd, killing 10 people and injuring 27 others before getting shot and killed by police. As of August 6, 2019, the shooter's motivations are being investigated, however, it's known the shooter has expressed an interest in killing people as well as previous mass shootings.
> 
> \+ This episode was purposely focused on the vigils of these shootings. Normally, I would never write about recent mass shootings in my stories out of respect for the victims of such tragedies. To be honest, I thought about scrapping this episode in concern of backlash. Please understand I didn't write this episode to express my political and personal beliefs, nor did I write it for the sake of 'entertainment'. I simply wanted to express the emotions regarding such shootings, and how many Americans wished something to be done to prevent such incidents from happening in the future.


	51. End of Volume 1

Hello, Readers ~

 

First off, I want to thank readers for reading this story. I love writing these kinds of stories and seeing people read and makes comments throughout the volume. Without a doubt, I'll continue to write more stories for everyone to read and entertain. After publishing fifty episodes, I've decided to conclude this volume... and start up a new one!

 

To those on AO3, the second volume will first be published on the Wattpad. Eventually, I'll publish that volume on AO3. Until then, I'll be taking a break from writing episodes. All I ask is to be patient with me, and I'll be sure to publish more stories after recovering and getting things in order.

 

Overall, I hope everyone loves the story continues to follow the series. As a Hetalian, I say: make love, not war.

 

~ Jade


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